We'll work on it
by RuthLeilani
Summary: Tony:"You remember when I stayed with you that time, when it didn't go so well?" This story explores that stay. Gibbs/Tony friendship and some father/son, watch out for warnings inside!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own NCIS!

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**We'll work on it**

_Tony: You remember when I stayed with you that time, when it didn't go so well?_

_Gibbs: Yeah, I remember, DiNozzo._

_Tony: Well, listen, I was younger then, immature. A little unfocused._

_Gibbs: That was six month ago, Tony._

**Chapter 1-MOAH – Mother Of All Hangovers**

The first sensation that registered with him was the complete, desert-like dryness of his mouth. It felt like a mouse had died in there or a cotton wool plantation. Before he could make his first futile attempt to swallow and gather a little saliva, the second sensation that hit him, was in form of a raging headache.

He woke and found he wasn't alone. Apart from the giant hangover festering within him, there was the limp body of a brunette girl sprawled half over him. It was still early, barely dawn. It was that strange twilight hour where you wake up after drinking your head off, and just for a moment before turning around to go back to sleep, that you begin to realise the outcome of the night before. The moment when the alcohol has worn off enough to let go of its hold on your consciousness, to leave you with a mean kick back in your guts and you lean the _full_ effects of your antics the night before.

Suddenly, somewhere an alarm went off and the girl startled awake. With a moan and a silent curse she got up picked up some of the clothes that were sprawled all over the floor and vanished into the bathroom.

Normally, in this situation, he would take five minutes to roll over to the side of his bed to the nightstand, down some painkillers and then collapse again. But this was _not_ his bed.

The brunette came out of the bathroom again, fully dressed and in quite a hurry, "Ahhmm – Pete?! I've got to go to work, be nice and pull the door shut when you leave, okay?" and left. He was a little hurt that she forgot his name, but realized that he didn't know hers either, so he let it slide. She might have mentioned that she was a physician or a lawyer, or something in that line, though.

It was quite an effort for him to get himself up and to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror he frowned. _Oh hi! You fucked up old man!_ The sex had been good, but this kind of solution to his problem would definitely kill him soon. After taking a shower, which was pretty much his only option, and dressing, he left the unfamiliar apartment and headed to work as well.

He had to take the bus, his car was still parked in front of some bar downtown and he was not fit to drive yet anyway. He would get into work late and in a sorry state, wearing yesterday's clothes _and_ nursing a hangover. Sure thing to piss Gibbs off. _Awesome!_ Maybe, he could sneak in and change into the spare clothes he kept at work and fake being fine. There was a very small chance to fool the all knowing boss, but he'd try anyway, using his well practiced and well honed humours façade.

He arrived at NCIS headquarters 45 minutes later, put down by the means of public transport and rather cranky. His salute to the security guards were somewhat more subdued than normal and his heart fell when he saw his boss heading in his direction, probably on his morning run for coffee. _Legendary luck._

He failed to put on a believable smile, when Gibbs stopped short seeing him and giving him an eye up. He probably looked as disgusting as he felt. He dropped his gaze, not meeting the glaring eyes of the man he regarded to be his mentor. He would not be able to make this look good or spin a tale to get his way out somehow, deciding that he was doomed to disappoint Gibbs anyway, he thought he may as well do it with a little DiNozzo style.

Putting on his most cocky grin, the one that would get him a head slap on any day, and faced the other man right on. "Hey, boss! How you doin'? You may bring me a big black one too; last night was kinda exhausting, rewarding, but exhausting, if ya know what I mean. Right? Right?" The colloquial language and the slightly obscene gestures added were enough to push the senior agent over the edge.

"DiNozzo!" he barked sharply, the no-nonsense tone aimed to reign him in. The way he called out the name enough to convey the reprimand for coming in too late; having a hangover at work in the middle of the week, where just having a hangover at work itself was inexcusable, _and_ acting in a completely disrespectful manner towards the woman he had had sex with and Gibbs himself.

No one could stand up to the glare of Leroy Jethro Gibbs. It affected Tony, but he just let it slide. He would not be able to change what he'd done, or what he would have to do, so decided to just live with the consequences; it wasn't like he had a choice anyway. For now he just turned, gave his boss a weary wave. "See you later, boss, be sure to be caffeinated, please!" and headed off to the bullpen, leaving a fuming Gibbs behind.

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**Author's note:** This story is supposed to take place six month before "Left for dead". It will deal with Tony's issues without having him cry or panic. Have fun! And please **REVIEW**! I'd like to hear your opinion so I can improve, change what needs to be changed and keep what is good.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note:** Very special thanks go to XX-Samantha-XX for being a wonderful beta again, polishing up my english and giving me free language lessons. Thank you!

**Warning: Time-inconsistency** This story is set six month before the episode Left for Dead, which makes it pre-series. I am fully aware that Kate and McGee shouldn't be there according to timeline, but I can't be bothered to put Vivian Blackadder into this story and they are just in this to be annoyed by Tony and do not have an influence on the plotline. It is a mistake, it's bending and squishing things the way I want them, and, well, that's just how it's going to be in my fanfiction.

Have Fun!

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**Chapter 2**

When Gibbs came back into the bullpen, only one coffee in his hand, DiNozzo was sitting at his desk. He had changed and was sitting in a demonstrative relaxed position with his feet elevated on his desk.

He also, had obviously managed to piss off Kate and McGee already too. The normally nervous, shy and harmless junior agent McGee now had a look on his face that could have killed by itself. Kate was typing on her computer keyboard so hard, Gibbs was sure that soon either the computer or her hands would break.

DiNozzo seemed completely content with himself, now trying different ring tones for his cell.

Something was seriously off today with his senior field agent.

Gibbs' gut was churning.

Sure, Tony played the fool on day to day basis and managed to get really annoying on some occasions, but he never did it just to be destructive. He would joke or pull pranks to lighten the mood, he would tease McGee to toughen him up, and he would even stand up to Gibbs, if he felt it to be necessary. He actually was sometimes getting a little carried away in doing so. This seemed to be different though. He was acting out, being openly disrespectful, being late and not was affecting his work.

Apart from his antics and deflections DiNozzo was a professional, a really good investigator; it was completely unlike him to disregard the rules like that.

Gibbs would have loved to just smack the back of the younger man's head to get some sense into him. He had a feeling that today he would not get away with that though. Even though he seemed oblivious to everything apart from his cell phone right now, Gibbs could sense the tension that was emanating from him.

"Work!" he bellowed and sat at his desk.

Reluctantly, Tony followed the order, not without complaining loudly though. The case they were working currently was merely routine. A couple of marines had found a lucrative way to earn some money on the side, by stealing exclusive cars, taking them part and selling the parts. Nothing creative there and nothing very subtle. It was just a matter of time before they found everyone involved and nail them with evidence. Still it was a case and DiNozzo sure as hell was not too good to be bothered with it. He was just being a brat all of the day.

They were digging up connections and background stories. The hours passed slowly and tediously. They had one of the perpetrators, a petty officer Brian Paulie. Unfortunately, he was in a coma, their raid had gone bad, there was a car chase and a crash. Tony had noted that it should be a requirement for grand theft auto to actually be able to drive and went off in a rant about The Fast and the Furious. PO Paulie would not be able to tell them about his accomplices. Not even Gibbs could make someone talk, who wasn't conscious. So they were investigating co-workers, friends and everyone who might be connected.

Gibbs had been with the director, when he returned the scene that unfolded itself in front of him caused him to actually wish he could just get rid of his whole team and work completely alone, not bothered with co-workers for the next few years till he could retire and live a peaceful life far away, just with a boat. _No luck for him!_

McGee was standing in the middle of the bullpen, only wearing his boxers. He was obviously barely able to contain his anger.

Kate was not as successful at controlling her rage; there were actually a couple of agents from other teams holding her back. Tony had at least, lost his relaxed posture and was pushed back into the corner behind his desk, trying to avoid his partner's attacks. Her hair looked different, green actually.

The skilled investigator he was, Gibbs concluded that the paint must have been on the inside of her NCIS cap. Concerning the whereabouts of the pants, he refused to even start wondering about that. There were also some yelling about changed PDA designs and contact information and a load of very unflattering curses.

He whistled and the attention turned to him immediately, a bellowed "What the hell is going on here?" followed and seemed to be a good idea at the moment, but was answered with turmoil and yelled responses, which made a second whistle necessary. "Sush! Actually, I don't wanna hear it. Everybody, everybody" he fixated on his team, "back to work."

The other agents followed orders, actually terrified of the tone Gibbs had used. The members of his team were just staring back at him, Kate and McGee in rage, pleading for justice and vengeance, and Tony with a look in his eyes that troubled Gibbs deeply.

He seemed to be fully aware of the shit he had done, he seemed to be aware that he would not get away with it. But he seemed content, like someone who had just proven a point. He didn't fear the dressing down he would get or possible punishments, for this he could even get fired. He seemed to have accepted it as a given.

Gibbs was at loss of how to rein his Senior Field Agent in. He couldn't even come up with one curse to start his dressing down. That was a first.

"I want a report of your progress and then you can go home. McGee, you should get dressed and Kate, clean up! It's late, we will continue tomorrow morning."

They did as they were told. After finishing, they threw Tony evil glares, harsh gestures, then left.

Tony hadn't moved, he was still watching his boss silently. Gibbs just didn't get it. He was kind of proud to be able to look behind most of the masks the younger man hid behind. He felt honoured to have earned the trust of the other and was glad that he had started to occasionally confide in him.

Where Gibbs had been sure that the man would have his six in all cases pretty much from the very moment they'd met, it had taken him a lot longer to give his agent the security of knowing that it worked in both ways, that he would have his six at all times as well. Eventually, Tony had stopped securing his own back in the field, had stopped looking over his shoulder constantly and had started to rely on him.

Gibbs just had no idea what possessed the younger man to act out like this now. He could not let him continue like this. But what could he do?

"DiNozzo!" again just the name conveyed a lot. "Go home. We will talk about this tomorrow!" If he was surprised that he wasn't yelled at or punished, his face didn't show it, maybe, he even seemed a little disappointed? But he gathered up his things and left without another word.

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**Author's note:** Please review! I'd love to hear your opinion on this, so I can improve, change what needs to be changed and keep what is good.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

He was shivering slightly, digging his fists deep in the pockets of his coat, ducking behind a low wall to get out of the wind.

It was early April and the days already had gotten reasonably warm and sunny, but at night, the temperatures still dropped quite low.

There was another reason for him to cover here, where he was out of sight himself, but had a good view of the entrance to the NCIS building and the exit of the employee parking lot, he was waiting.

The day had been hell.

He'd struggled with a major headache and the general feeling of being a complete looser, screw up and failure. He had not done one thing the whole day to prove those feelings wrong, but then he had not aimed to do so, had he?

He had lived up to some standard, DiNozzo-style. Whose standard was that anyway, he refused to reflect on that too thoroughly though. All in all, not a glorious day.

Well, there was no alternative. His fate had been doomed pretty much from the moment he walked into the bar the night before. But he had not had a choice then either. Tragedy! No acceptable choice. Good old Sophocles really knew his stuff. He had also had his ways with the mother-issues. Tony grunted and shook his head to get rid of that idea, _that_ was a line of thought he should definitely _not_ follow right now.

Instead he shifted his position as his leg began to cramp. Maybe, Ovid would be a Greek to muse about, well, more uplifting anyway, he sure as hell could enjoy the warm body of Corinna right now. Well, he had walked that path the night before and it had gotten him in the bad books with the people he regarded to be the most important to him. _Awesome._

Kate had been furious and he was sure she would not get over it easily. He had to smile when he thought what she would say if he tried to talk about ancient poets with her. Her face would probably contort more than today, or she would just pop and vanish out of surprise. Well, he would never try and today he had made sure that she would not listen anyway.

Finally the figure he was waiting for stepped out of the main entrance. His steps were steady, determined and even at the end of the day full of energy. He was not wearing a coat, the cold was probably too afraid to attack him. Tony watched him cross the parking lot, enter his car and drive away.

He was regretting his actions. He hated to be disrespectful towards Gibbs. He had allowed him to regard him as a mentor; he had offered him a job and had taught him constantly to become a better investigator and man. It was a shame that he was not able to live up to that. _No surprise there though._

Gibbs was finally finished for the night, so he could leave his hiding place and sneak back inside. As Gibbs and the rest of the team were gone, even Ducky and Abby, and it was not a seldom occurrence for him to come back to work at night, there was actually no need to sneak, but still he felt like he was doing something wrong.

Back at his desk he put in a couple of hours work. He really loved his job. He could contribute to a greater good here. He could help people. He could be useful, at least as useful as possible. One could have wished that one would make it through one's job and one's personal problems without screwing it up and the relations that one had with one's team mates, but he had stopped wishing a long, _long_ time ago. _Just take it and shut up._

He would have to get some hours of sleep to, he knew that, or he would collapse sooner or later, probably sooner. He was a wuss after all. The floor behind his desk would do just fine. He had slept there before; when a case required their full attention and Gibbs rode them until complete exhaustion over came them.

Despite this, he doubted it would be easy to fall asleep; he had to admit that he was troubled. At home he would put on the DVD of a classic movie or a Magnum, P.I. episode and be eased to sleep by the comfort of something familiar and predictable, something never changing, that would always end in some kind of happy end.

When he lay down, covered with his jacket, he was prepared for a light sleep, not deep enough for nightmares. He was exhausted and after an uncomfortable hour of pondering he finally succumbed to a fitful sleep.

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**Author's note:** It's a short chapter, but more is coming soon.** Please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:**

When Gibbs arrived early the next morning, he found that Tony was there already. Gibbs had only had one cup of coffee this morning, and wasn't looking forward to the confrontation with his Senior Field Agent at all. He still had to react to the mess from yesterday. He was more concerned than angry, but he couldn't just let it go, he had his role to play._ Showdown._

"DiNozzo!" he barked in his meanest drill instructor tone that actually made the other man jump. "Cut the crap!" he added his sternest glare.

No, he wasn't a man of many words. This would do. He had worked with DiNozzo for nearly two years now and he knew Tony could read him better than any of his other agents before. He had not been very subtle anyway.

The message was received, he knew that when he heard the silent "Yes, Sir!" of DiNozzo.

He cursed the habit of the younger man, always when he felt put down, miserable and insecure would he be submissive and 'Sir' him. The first few weeks of Tony working at NCIS had been full of 'Yes, Sir' and 'No, Sir', that was, until Gibbs had made a rule about it.

Now, he took in the attire of his agent.

He had gone through quite an effort to make it seem like he had just arrived.

But Gibbs was Gibbs, the skilled investigator, and had come to know Tony's strategies and deflections quite well. There were subtle signs. The half open desk drawer, where there was a cup with water and a toothbrush visible, the full trashcan, that had not been emptied, because the cleaning staff didn't want to wake him.

He had slept here.

There was also something 'hinky' about his clothes.

They weren't the ones he had worn yesterday, no, he was way too careful and practiced in covering up than that.

But they weren't fresh ones either. If Gibbs remembered right, they were the clothes he kept as spares in his car mixed up with the shirt from the day before yesterday. The clothes were not dirty nor did they smell; it was just that they didn't look as sharp as they normally did. Tony paid a _lot _of attention to his outward appearance, but today he looked more like one of Fornell's men than his usual, carefully dressed self. _That's a first._

"You come up with anything?" he asked, knowing Tony had spent a good part of the night working. He wasn't too impressed with Tony's timing, but he knew he had put in some hard work on the case.

"There are some possible connections at Quantico, which might be a new lead. There is a report on your desk."

"Okay! I'll send Kate and McGee down there. You'll stay here and do probie's work. Check, restock and clean the truck. And that's only the beginning."

"Yes, Sir, that's okay."

It crossed Gibbs mind that he might prefer a Tony that is acting out over one without his spirit.

"You'll have to apologize to Kate and McGee!"

"Yes, Sir"

"Now, move!"

Tony DiNozzo without his spirit was all he got to see the entire day. It was even more nerve- racking, than the day before. He'd apologized and he did the probie's chores, without complaining; but who would have known, as he was not speaking to anyone, keeping his distance and a hostile air around him all day.

It was painfully obvious for Gibbs that something was seriously wrong with Tony, but his efforts to give him the chance to confide in him were futile. He grew increasingly frustrated with his stubborn agent over the course of the day.

They had actually gotten some decisive leads and crucial information from Kate's and McGee's visit at Quantico. But then, there had never been any doubts in Tony's abilities, at least not on Gibbs' side.

The young agent had a special way of thinking outside the box, of discovering connections no one had seen before, and intuition, that made him a brilliant investigator, only topped by his skills on undercover operations.

Gibbs was ready to call it a day. "Go home; the whole thing can wait till tomorrow morning."

McGee was obviously very eager to escape, the tension that had been building up was begging to become visible in the bullpen over the last couple of hours. Kate sent a final glance to Tony; she hadn't spoken to him all day. She had claimed to still be angry, but Gibbs was pretty sure she already missed their usual light hearted banter and Tony's silly, childish but good natured foolery. He missed it for sure.

Tony didn't answer, didn't move and Gibbs lost his patience, "DiNozzo! I told you this morning: Cut the crap!" Now the young man actually looked confused. "Yeah, you still behave like an idiot! Now go home, sleep, come in tomorrow with the right attitude! And I swear if I find you spending the night here, I'll suspend you for a week or even fire your sorry ass!"

"Yes, Sir!" Tony grabbed his stuff reluctantly and left.

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**Author's note:** Please **REVIEW**! I'd like to hear your opinion so I can improve, change what needs to be changed and keep what is good.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note:** Thank you for the reviews. This is a short chapter in Gibbs' POV. Next chapter will be the same scene in Tony's POV. Have fun!

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**Chapter 5:**

Gibbs was down in his basement, working on his new project.

He was going to build a boat.

The first load of wood had just been delivered a couple of days ago and he had started to measure, sort and cut.

It had been one of his more brilliant ideas; it would keep him busy in those long and lonely nights. Maybe, it would help him to avoid ex-wife number four.

He had always loved to work with wood, to shape the raw material into something new and useful with his own two hands.

And today, the work helped to take his thoughts away from the problems with his senior field agent.

It was after midnight when he got one of those late night calls that called him back to work. For the first time in a long time, he actually regretted that he had to leave what he was doing.

Yeah, the boat seemed to be a good idea, it would give him something he enjoyed apart from his job.

They'd gotten a tip from one of the sources in Quantico. There would be a heist tonight, they'd been told the when and the where. It was the perfect opportunity to nail the whole group and catch them red handed.

He grabbed his gear and headed outside, jumped into his car and drove off. While driving, he was in a hurry, he grabbed his cell and called Kate and told her to get McGee and get to the meeting point. Then he called back to NCIS to send backup. Then he called Abby, gave her orders to find an observation system she could hack in at the location where they had been told the cars had been taken to be disassembled, and to give her heads up for the incoming evidence.

The last call he made was going to his Senior Field Agent. He knew that DiNozzo usually took his cell with him to bed so he didn't bother to try his home line. After the second ring a very sleepy voice answered.

"DiNozzo!?"

"We've got a tip. Picking you up now."

"What? No! I…"

"DiNozzo, I swear if you are not home right now… I'm just pulling in your street. You're home, right?"

"I'm home, sort 'a. But Boss…"

"I'm here. Be down stat, or I'm coming to get you!" He cut off the call and pulled in the parking space right next to Tony's car. He jumped out of his car and immediately saw something he'd never expected to see.

Shocked green eyes were meeting his. Tony's features were ghostlike, pale and he seemed paralyzed by the sudden appearance of his boss.

He was slumped in the backseat of his Mustang, wearing a couple of pullovers and jackets over another, the hood pulled up over his head, hands packed in socks, and still he looked frozen to the bone. He had obviously been sleeping in his car. _What the hell? _The shock on Tony's face faded and was replaced by utter embarrassment.

Gibbs had no idea what was going on, but his anger boiled up. The stupid kid seemed to be in real trouble and hadn't told anyone. Spending the night with some random girl, sleeping at the office, it all began to make sense now, he hadn't been able to go home. But why? _Stupid, stubborn, stupid kid_, he cursed silently.

He opened the car door and barked. "DiNozzo!"

Tony hurried to get out of the backseat; he lost the socks and some of his warm clothing and grabbed his gear. "Boss!" His voice was a little higher than normal and his cheeks a deep shade of red now. He avoided to look into the eyes of the older man, and seemed to be close to terrified.

"DiNozzo! What the hell is going on?"

Tony stopped short. "It's fine!"

Gibbs could have slapped him silly right now. His temper was boiling.

"Don't we have to get going?" Tony went over to Gibbs car, trying to escape the awkward situation.

Gibbs slowly counted to ten in his head and then followed him. He did not say another word to Tony; afraid of what would come out of his mouth in this state of rage he was in. _Stupid, stubborn!_

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**Author's note: **Thank you so much for all your reviews, they were awesome and really encouraging, also the critique is very appreciated.

I've come to understand that you feel Gibbs to be too harsh, well, he is right now, but Tony is acting stupid to. This story is set pre-series, it is supposed to be quite early on in their friendship-father/son-relationship. But don't worry they'll adjust and get there. Please be patient, I do not want to rush this story, but develop it with care.

And keep them **reviews **coming, **please**!


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note:** Next chapter, a little longer, Tony's POV. Thank you for your reviews, they are inspiring.

Have fun.

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**Chapter 6:**

The day passed with a _lot_ of probie work and a rather frosty exchange with Kate and McGee, who were still mad about the pranks of the day before. Fair enough.

When Gibbs sent them home Tony froze, causing Gibbs to obviously lose his patience. He called him an idiot, _again_. But, given the last few days he couldn't really blame him. He ordered him to go home and threatened him about staying at NCIS over night. There was no choice, once again, he had to leave.

The moment the elevator doors slid shut, leaving him alone and out of sight of others, he started to curse loudly. He cursed Kate for being smug, he cursed the Probie for being so incredibly green and he cursed Gibbs for his damn self-righteousness.

It felt really good to let it out. He had been silently beating himself up all day. His thoughts were captivated in a struggle of guilt, self-hatred and self-pity. These battling thoughts provided for an incredibly exhausting day which made him irritable and unreasonable.

In the solitude of the elevator he could be as unreasonable as he liked. So for a change he just turned all his pent up emotions into outward aggression. He had verbal abuse for all of his friends; even Ducky and Abby got their fair share.

The elevator was like a secret hideaway. Nothing that was said or done in the elevator left the elevator.

He flipped the emergency stop button, stopping the cart in between two floors.

He had given way to his feelings towards himself by turning on his friends. _Now, here you are acting like an honorable person_, he thought bitterly.

Even though no one would ever know, but him, it had been wrong. He'd been acting like a brat.

He was spending a major part of his time acting childish, or better, tried to be as child-like, with the connotations of a light-hearted, free-spirited, fun loving person, as possible. To own a bit of the special type of care-free innocence that a child possessed, was his most ardent, yet unattainable desire.

But even more commanding and driving in his life was the need to be one of the good guys. He was aware that he wasn't blessed with the best disposition for this. It was just impossible for him to become someone dominated by selfishness, greed and anger. He could not and would not become an aggressive, violent, abusing monster. His self depended on that, so he had to fight it with every breath he had.

Standing in an elevator, cursing people who had not done anything wrong, was definitely not part of fighting his aggressive and abusive urges. _Way to go, DiNozzo!_

Once he had calmed down, guilt and self hatred began to take a vice like hold again.

He was vaguely aware that he was caught up in a vicious circle. Gibbs was right; he needed to adjust his attitude. The problem was, right now he just didn't have the means to do so.

Being in the small elevator cabin soothed him somewhat. He'd always liked small, confined, dark spaces. When he was little, he had spent quite a lot of time in his closet.

For a moment he dwelled on the idea of just staying in the elevator for the night, Gibbs had probably blocked it for a longer period, using it as an office. But he had been unequivocally kicked out and he really wasn't aiming to lose his job.

He turned the switch again and continued to the parking lot, considering once again his options; he got into his car and drove off.

For a couple of hours he just drove around town, without destination, just to pass time and keep his thoughts from wandering around.

But he was tired, the day had been exhausting. If he continued to drive he risked not only his own life and his beloved car, but, could become a hazard to others.

He ended up parking in front of his apartment building. He would have to sleep in the car. Once again, he was blessed by his special, personal luck, as the weather had again worsened and the temperatures had dropped. Now it was actually freezing outside.

He had a blanket for emergencies and some clothes in his trunk and he pulled on a couple of shirts, jackets and a pullover over each other.

He tried to sleep in the driver's seat of his mustang. Without much success. He loved that car, but as it was a vintage model, it proved now to be not as super practical as he had originally thought. It was not possible to recline the back rest of the seat to actually find a comfortable lying position. When he tried to rest his legs on the passenger's seat the clutch was in the way.

He vaguely remembered a time in his teenage years, when his sexuality started to blossom, when the constricted space of a car had not bothered him at all. Well, he had become a fucked up old man after all.

To make things even worse his hands and feet were getting really cold. He searched his trunk again and came up with two pairs of socks. One he pulled as a second over his feet, the other one he used as substitute gloves.

Now he tried the back seat. He could lie down here, but it was far from comfortable. His back would kill him tomorrow. Finally, he was able to get some rest and fell asleep.

It felt like only seconds after finally closing his eyes that he was startled awake by the ring of his cell. _What had he thought choosing such an annoying ring tone?_

"DiNozzo?!" he answered sleepily and confused, trying to get his bearings and wondering why the hell he was sleeping in the backseat of his car.

"We've got a tip. Picking you up now."

Gibbs! Oh, for Christ sake, couldn't the man have a normal conversation over the phone like anybody else? Had it always to be that military bark? Just a "Hello" once in a while would be enough.

So it would be one of those nights! Then suddenly, it hit him. He was sleeping in his car and his boss was on his way to pick him up. _Oh no!_

"What? No! I…"

"DiNozzo, I swear if you are not home right now… I'm just pulling in your street. You're home, right?"

"I'm home, sort 'a. But Boss…"

"I'm here. Be down stat, or I'm coming to get you!"

The call was cut off abruptly. It had been one of those special Gibbs conversations of sate-your-business-in-ten-words-or-less. He'd had no time to come up with a cover story, not time to even panic; he already heard the screeching tires and saw the ridiculously speeding car coming towards him.

Seconds later, he'd had just enough time to voice his dominant thought once to himself, _oh shit! _Then Gibbs was standing in front of him.

Tony swiftly considered the possibility that Gibbs would not notice that something was different, that he was sleeping in his car. That he would just let it slide. He had to give credit to himself for the fantasies he could come up with. Obviously Gibbs knew what he was looking at. _Shit had hit the fan now._

Tony had been in trouble for the last few days, trouble he had no means to handle himself at all. Surely, he wished that someone knew and someone might care enough to help. But his problems were not that important, not that severe, not worth mentioning.

_DiNozzos did not ask for help._

An ugly black cloud of guilt and self-consciousness formed in his chest. He'd finally proved it to Gibbs just how weak he was, how pathetic. Displayed in full glorious view on the backseat of his car.

So this is how it feels to lose the respect of the man you admire most, he reflected.

Gibbs opened the car door and barked: "DiNozzo!"

Tony hurried to get out of the backseat; he lost the socks and some of his warm clothing and grabbed his gear. How incredibly embarrassing.

"Boss!" His voice was a little higher than normal and his cheeks had flushed a deep shade of red. He avoided looking into the eyes of the older man. Not wanting to see pity or judgment.

"DiNozzo! What the hell is going on?"

Tony did not know how to respond. His bosses' voice was laced with anger and impatience, but he could also hear a hint of concern. Maybe, he heard it, because he wished so badly for it to be there. Concern, would mean someone, Gibbs, cared. _Big, fat delusions you're nurturing there, DiNozzo_, he scolded himself.

He would not deliberately add to his indignity, by whining about his predicament. _You can't run around bothering people with your personal problems._

"It's fine!" he answered. Gibbs was dangerously silent and the atmosphere turned even more awkward.

"Don't we have to get going?" Tony went over to Gibbs car, trying to escape. Gibbs did not say another word to him. He was feeling utterly miserable.

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**Author's note: **The next update will probably not be before tuesday, because I had a little too much fun last night at a party and tomorrow start my intern year.

Please, be patient and** review** in the meantime.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's note: **

Okay, I totally expect you to get annoyed by how slow this is proceeding, I start to be to. I planned to get to the explaining and revealing in this chapter, it just turned out different. Still, I think it is an important chapter (Nice and careing Gibbs plus some Abby and Ducky). Revelations coming up in Chapter 8, promised!

Have fun!

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**Chapter 7:**

The case was wrapping up nicely. They had caught the whole group red handed. They had stormed the warehouse, while they were working on the stolen cars, the resistance was minimal. No one was wounded; it had been a clean bust.

When going in, he had trusted Tony to have his six like every day during the last two years. He had watched his Senior Field Agent closely though. It had been a long time until Tony had started to trust him equally.

Being partners, they depended on one another, this kind of trust was vital.

When he'd met the young detective in Baltimore, he had seen a kid underappreciated by his department and by himself. His colleges were giving him a hard time and he acted like a loose cannon.

Sure, he was talented, even gifted, but it was only a matter of time before he either left for yet another city, another force, or got killed.

Luckily, it had been the first.

In the field DiNozzo wasn't able to rely on his backup, he didn't dare count on others. He was constantly securing his own back, looking over his shoulder. That was a dangerous habit.

Gibbs constantly told him, after every operation in the field, those reassuring words: "I've got your six."

After about a year, they had gone into a meth-lab a marine was running at Norfolk. Gibbs had been right behind DiNozzo and he noticed that he didn't check his back, he didn't look back over his shoulder, and finally, he relied on Gibbs to be there no matter what.

Gibbs had been very pleased; he had showed one of his rare open smiles and said: "Good job, DiNozzo!" Tony had been taken off guard by the change of routine; he had flushed, mumbled something incoherent and avoided eye contact. It had taken a moment to compose himself, but then his face had lit up in a lopsided grin: "You had my six, boss!"

Shortly after this Gibbs had promoted him to Senior Field Agent.

He really wished that Tony would also rely on him with personal problems to. Seeing him sleep in a car, made it only too obvious that his trust-issues were still hindering the younger man.

He thought they had been getting there, when Tony had started to tell him about cases that troubled him. Mostly when children were involved or abuse against women. He had started to tell things from his past, even from his childhood. Still it was seldom more than a snappy one liner, that covered up the deeper revelation, but Gibbs was gaining bits of insights _(on what he silently had suspected all the time?)._

Now he was determined to find out what the problem was and to help.

After they had rounded up all the car thieves and brought them back to NCIS. The rest of the night passed with the interviews and all of them broke and confessed sooner rather than later.

He ordered a nice breakfast in for his team in the morning, before they started to work on their reports and the inevitable paperwork.

Gibbs couldn't stop himself from constantly watching his agent, searching him for a hint of what was wrong.

Tony did his best to act like nothing had ever happened. He was a damn good undercover agent. Obviously, he had mastered the art of pretending, he was very skillful in masking his feelings.

After calming down a little Gibbs had tried to get him to talk. He had skills to, and even though Tony tried to avoid him he got him rounded up alone a couple of times.

However, he had not been successful. He had tried understanding, pressuring, ordering, threatening, pleading, but had not gotten anything more than the "It's fine!" a sentence he had seriously begun to hate now. He had never hated a sentence so much before.

It was about noon when he was pacing up and down restlessly in autopsy. He had summoned Ducky and Abby. Abby was watching him with deep concern, biting her lower lip and nervously playing with one of Ducky's instruments. A clean one Gibbs hoped in passing.

The older ME was leaning against one of his autopsy tables. He was calm; he only rarely lost his calm. Gibbs had known him for years now and couldn't actually remember a time he had seen his friend lose his temper. It was reassuring and he was thankful for that.

Also Ducky was able to show compassion and concern, and he appreciated that to.

Both of them were caring people and he knew they were true friends of Tony and would be sharing his concern.

Finally, he stopped to face them. "Now spit it out! What do you guys know?"

Abby's eyes were pleading with him. "I really do know a lot. I know that flies are slower in the morning and night than during the day, because of thermal lift. I know loads of stuff about forensics, and computers, and music, and … But I don't know what you wanna hear, Boss man, I'm sorry." She was babbling.

She didn't do it to make him mad, she was genuinely trying. He did have a soft spot for his crazy Goth lab tech, but he still barked now. "DiNozzo!? Abby!"

"So, Jethro, you have indeed noticed that something…," he gave a small smile to Abby, "… something hinky is going on with our boy? I wondered about it."

"You bet I noticed!"

"Oh Tony! Yeah, he's been acting strange. He hasn't stopped by the whole week and he canceled our Tarantino movie night. He never cancels that! He loves to reenact the Desperados guitar scene and I like to do the Pulp Fiction dance. He hasn't been talking, has he? Oh, Gibbs what is going on?"

"Abbs! I'm happy I didn't understand what exactly you were planning there, but he has been distant, right? Did he tell you anything?"

"No."

"No, Jethro, he has not confided in either of us. He has kept mainly to himself these days, Caitlin and Timothy have complained about him though. I think he might be hiding something. The boy has quite a way of keeping people at arm's length."

"I found him sleeping in his car last night."

"What? Oh, Tony!" Abby cried out.

"Oh, dear! Well, we don't know about his predicament."

Gibbs started to pace again; he had hoped to gain some information. He would have to do some investigating. He was determined to find out, now, more than ever. If Tony couldn't confide in Ducky or even Abby, something was really going on and it couldn't be good.

"Okay, Abbs, Duck, we have to do something! I'll find out what's up. Duck, can you check him out, make sure he hasn't caught the flu or something, it was freezing last night. Maybe you can talk to him, tell him one of your stories, something about letting friends in, or something…"

Ducky smiled benignly. "I can do that!"

"What can I do? I want to help! Boss man, what do you want me to do?"

"You'll do what you do best."

"What's that?"

"You make a fuss about him." He squeezed her shoulders reassuringly and placed a small kiss on her forehead. "We _will _help."

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**Author's note: Please review! **


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's note:** It took me a while to get there, but it is revelation-time! Jej! Have fun!

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**Chapter 8:**

"I'm going for coffee! "Was all Gibbs said when leaving his team behind to snoop around in the personal life of his Senior Field Agent. Usually his conscience would stop him from prying too much into his Agent's personal life but this time, his conscience wasn't stopping him, it actually, was encouraging him. He needed to know what was forcing his agent to sleep in his own car.

He decided to start at Tony's apartment. When he got there a strange feeling of solitude was creeping up on him, one that only abandoned places could emanate. In fact, there was not one person in the whole house. The main doors were locked.

On closer inspection he found signs of ongoing construction work.

It took him a while to find the address of the land settlement society that owned the building. He had to intimidate three clerks to get some information. _His conscience not stopping him there either._

Finally, he tracked down the concierge of Tony's building. He had met him before on a few occasions. He was an elderly man, probably due for retirement a decade ago, called _Buddy_. Buddy was a man, who obviously liked the joys of life, and carried those on his hips. He loved to share a story, but wasn't by far as entertaining as Ducky.

Gibbs decided to go with bribery and brought doughnuts.

"You're Tony's boss, aren't you? With the FBI right?" Buddy said while dropping the filling of the jelly doughnut on his overall.

"We're with NCIS. Naval Criminal Investigative Service."

"Ahh… sure, sure! So that's the same, is it?"

"No it isn't." Gibbs was sure that DiNozzo had had that special conversation a couple of times before. Well, they got that one often, the agency wasn't as well known as their good work deserved. He would make sure to annoy Fornell on the next occasion a little more than necessary to make up for this.

"So, how is Tony? Better, I hope?"

Gibbs grew suspicious at this new information. "Better, yeah! Can you tell me what really happened? You know he holds back on details."

Buddy's eyes lit up happily, finally having found someone who would listen to him voluntarily.

"Yeah, it was quite a tragedy. In 45 years never once have I seen something like that happen. The Mansons, they lived here since 20 years I think, nice people. Laverne, she was a real beauty in her time, had an adventurous strike, I think she was a nurse in Korea, best blueberry muffins I've ever had. Jimmy, was some sort of scientist, I think, he was a bit of a fruitcake, only thing he talked about were his books…" Buddy went on for a while about the elderly couple.

_Awesome, now he is telling you the life story of everyone he's ever met! _Gibbs willed down his temper and impatience.

"… 3 children, a couple of grandchildren. Really a tragedy! Tony tried to help, but it was too late. Gave us quite a scare himself, didn't he?"

Now, they were getting somewhere. Gibbs focused his attention again, but just nodded in agreement to encourage the other to elaborate.

"He got quite a load of the gas, as he was trying to get the Mansons out of there. Looked bad. Gave the paramedics some work, didn't breath right for a while. Is he out of the hospital yet? Sure thing, they took all the inhabitants to hospital. Everyone exposed to the gas, was quite a leak. The Miller's kids are still in. Could have ended worse. "

Now, Gibbs had a hard time not to scream out of frustration. Anger was boiling up inside of him. In all the blubbering of the old, fat man he had gotten the information he had searched for. This was serious. Even more serious than he had expected. _That stupid, stubborn kid!_

Buddy went on with his jabbering, while Gibbs tried to calm down again and reflected. There had been a gas leak. The Masons, Tony's next door neighbors, had died from the intoxication. Tony had liked the older couple, Gibbs knew that he had occasionally helped them, drove them to doctor's appointments and went shopping, when Mrs. Mason had broken her leg after falling over the cat of another neighbor. Tony had tried to save them and had probably inhaled a lot of the gas himself in doing so.

"Why, was the gas that deadly?" he interrupted Buddy with an absent minded question.

"Errr… some kind of chemical reaction with the pipes. House was built in the twenties; they used some kind of strange metal. There is a lot of foolery going on in construction, you know,…"

So, he had inhaled some toxic gas, had not been able to breath and had been taken to hospital.

Tony hated hospitals and he tended to avoid them at all costs. Even, at the cost of his own health. Gibbs had made that experience with a sprained ankle, a cracked rib and a gunshot wound. Panicking and running away from hospitals and doctors in general was a very unfortunate habit for someone who attracted trouble like Tony did. He had probably signed himself out AMA as soon as possible and came to work the next morning without telling anybody. _Stupid!_

"When will the work be done?" Gibbs asked.

"Will be a while, they will change all the pipes, but we should be able to get back in there tomorrow. It's been long enough, four days now. They put something in to neutralize the gas… "

Tony had not been able to get into his apartment, since the sleeping over at a women's house, the office and finally his car.

_Stupid!_

"I've got to go now!" without another word Gibbs headed back to his car.

"Thanks for the doughnuts!" Buddy shouted cheerily after him.

* * *

**A/N:** So this might be a little anit-climactic, but I added a little heroism for good measure. This story will now focus on how hard it is for Tony to accept help and what happens when he stays over at Gibbs' house for the first time.

**Please review**, constructive critisism and praise ;-) is greatly appreciated.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Thank you a lot for your great comments and reviews. They really make my day! Next chapter! Have fun!

* * *

**Chapter 9:**

He'd thought about running. He'd thought about hiding. He'd chosen to try to ignore the mess he was in.

He'd even thought about putting in some exceptionally good work. The best report ever written in NCIS history. The additional paperwork filled out faster than ever before. Catch one or two guys of the NCIS' most wanted, help a grandmother over the street and save a kitten from a tree in the passing.

All this to calm Gibbs; to show him that he actually was of some worth to the team, so Gibbs would let slide what he had seen.

He'd all but given up the hope to live up to Gibbs' expectations and he would gladly take what he deserved for failing him, but he was still scared.

He had seen what Gibbs could do when he was angry. He had seen him threaten and intimidate numerous suspects. He had seen him train in the gym. He knew Gibbs good enough to know he'd never want to be subject of his wrath.

Well, he obviously was now. He _would_ be able to take it, he would take all suffering the world or Gibbs could throw at him to keep close to the people he respected so much, if they would allow him to.

Maybe they would not want to have him around anymore though. Well, it had been a blessing as long as it lasted.

Gibbs would probably punish him and then wash his hands off of him.

It would hurt, but he would take it. Even though, he was scared now, he knew he had been through worse.

The first time; back in Baltimore, when he had seen Gibbs in an interrogation, he had seen something amazing. It caused him to admire the ex-Marine-NCIS-agent, to choose him as a role model and to strive to become like him.

The interrogated had been a dirt bag of the worst kind, a pedophilic, kidnapping and murdering bastard.

Gibbs had gotten him to confess; he had the capability and might to break him. Still, he didn't cross that line, Tony had seen it crossed far too many times before. He obviously despised what the guy had done and made him to pay for his deeds, but he didn't violate his dignity.

Tony had seen it many times since then. Gibbs was the best interrogator at NCIS. He had cracked the worst criminals, had seen them to justice, but he had never taken their dignity.

Gibbs would never pile up naked, blindfolded prisoners to humiliate them and make them talk. He would never beat a child till it confessed lies it hadn't made and thanks you for it.

He _would_ be able to take the punishment by Gibbs' hands he deserved, as he knew he had been through worse.

He had hoped to finish up as much work as possible, but his report was still unfinished, lying alone on his desk. He wished to be at his desk to do his paperwork. A sentiment he experienced very rarely.

Since Gibbs had left to get coffee (_wasn't that actually quite a while ago already?_) he hadn't been able to even write a word.

First it had been Abby calling him to help him with some boxes she needed to be stored away in the NCIS garage. He had been a little annoyed as the boxes turned out to be not heavy at all an only three in number and there had been a horde of probies hanging around the garage. But Abby had been her most exuberant and cheerful self and he couldn't resist her.

She took him to her lab, where she had breakfast waiting for them. She was caring and nice and that made him feel really tainted and mean. He gave his best to smile to her and pretended that he was nice and cheerful. It came out very phony though.

When she hugged him, that was an Abby thing he had learned very early in his NCIS career one wasn't to reject, he tensed. He needed all of his strength to not push her away.

He always tensed under her hugs, but it had become easier to accept this openly displayed physical act of affection with time. Today he felt the urge for flight as pressing as on her very first hug.

Later Ducky came by, seemingly surprised to find him there, and shanghaied him into helping with some long-due paperwork concerning his autopsies.

With some gentle pressure and long winded words, he forced Tony to take a cup of tea with him.

Normally, Tony really enjoyed the stories of the older ME. Mostly they were quite adventurous and instructive. Ducky surely could be as entertaining as one of his movies and his life would have actually made a fairly good script.

Yet again today, Tony couldn't quite appreciate Ducky's story, his thoughts were too occupied with his self-loathing and he zoned out a few times, which caused him to feel guilty even more.

_Stop!_, he thought, _your thoughts really keep spiraling down in a vicious circle!_

_You can't be that ridiculously pathetic, can you? Well, I have been told that before. And at least I am taking it to a whole new level! I might become the king of all the self-loathing, self-pitying losers. You have to account for your achievements._

_At least self-pity is better than bothering others with your problems, courting for their pity!_

He had only been back at his desk for five minutes, when Abby came up to the bullpen, bearing photos from their last clubbing tour. She sat on the corner of his desk and only stopped her chatting to catch a breath occasionally. He knew there was no stopping her once she had started, there was not help to be expected by Kate or McGee and Gibbs, who held the power to silence her, was still gone.

_Where was he getting his coffee in the first place? Right in Guatemala? _

He just accepted his fate, sat quietly next to her and listened.

Casually, he nearly didn't notice at first, she shifted a little coming closer to him, while letting her words wash over him in an soothing tone, and put a hand on his, stroking it calmly. Equally casually, she took a hand to his hair and gently nestled with it.

He closed his eyes for just a moment and under her soft touch he finally allowed himself to relax for the first time this week. He needed these people.

The moment passed and he distanced himself from her again. He gave her one of his best reassuring smiles, he had perfected that one so it didn't falter at all, and physically led her to the elevator.

They were halfway there, when said elevator arrived at their level and opened with the typical ding. Rushed, out came Gibbs, his jaw set firm, his eyes burning with determination and rage. He came up to Tony directly and with one swift movement had him pinned next to the file cabinet.

He was right in Tony's face, who didn't dare to and hadn't the chance to struggle against the ex-marine-sniper, but tried desperately to catch his breath that had forsaken him by surprise and his boss' elbow pressed to his throat.

Threateningly Gibbs brought his index finger right up to DiNozzo's face and hissed:" Don't you dare start now! You have a choice though: The Hospital or Ducky?"

"I'm …."

"Don't you dare finish that sentence!"

They held each other's gazes for a while, until Tony gave in.

"Ducky!"

"Okay, go down now!" Gibbs loosened his grip on the younger man.

"Boss,…"

"NOW! We'll talk later!"

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**Author's Note: **Please REVIEW! Coming up next: Gibbs gives Tony a piece of his mind, calls him idiot again and takes him back home. Stay tuned!


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

"He was exposed to toxic gas four nights ago. Signed himself out AMA from the hospital." Gibbs had dragged Tony down to autopsy and gave the facts to the ME. Ducky frowned silently and led Tony to one of the tables and started to examine him.

"Any signs of nausea or dizziness? Any shortness of breath or coughing?"

"Just in the beginning, the first two days maybe, I'm fine now." Tony answered quietly. He looked guilty and Gibbs felt he was right to do so.

At least he was letting Ducky examine him now. It was always a fight to get him to seek medical attention.

He had avoided the entrance examination that was required for all new NCIS agents so long that they had threatened to just fire him again. It was only thanks to Ducky's patience and clam persuasiveness that he had been allowed to give him a full medical.

The first time he had been wounded working for NCIS, a stab wound, he hadn't told anyone, and later collapsed of blood loss. When he'd woken up in the emergency room he'd panicked and tried to run.

On that occasion, Gibbs also had found out that the younger man had put down one 'Robin Masters' as next of kin. Needless to say that he had been seriously pissed and changed that to his own name.

When Ducky was finished, he shook his head in quiet desperation: "He's okay now, Jethro, fortunately he has more luck than brains on his side, where it's regarding his health!"

Relived to hear this, Gibbs prepared to go heads on with Tony now. He came dangerously close to the younger man's face again and hissed. "You are an idiot, DiNozzo!"

The reprimand didn't miss its aim. Tony visibly shrank and paled. He tried to distance himself from his Boss, but wasn't successful as he was still seated on the examination table. He avoided eye contact. Actually, his eyes were searching the door behind Gibbs.

Gibbs noticed just how badly Tony was affected. _He's going to bail on you, tone it down or he's going to go into fight and flight mode! _

Gibbs was deeply concerned about his agent, the anger just appeared as a sidekick to it. Anger was his usual response to things, if something wasn't going his way he would just yell and make it go as he pleased – must be something he picked up with the corps.

_Yelling will not work here, though._

He backed off a little bit: "Now, didn't we establish before that you tell me if you are hurt?" he asked, forcing himself to sound somewhat calm. "Wasn't that why I put my name down as your next of kin? Did I miss all the calls on Monday night, telling me that you were in the hospital?"

Tony looked down in his lap, he had visibly flushed. "Well … it wasn't work related. I thought I shouldn't bother you with my personal problems. You don't want to know stuff like this. I'm sorry."

Gibbs gut was twisting, hot fury rising in him against the people who had messed up the mind of the boy. Tony, who was always the first to help others and cared deeply for his friends, was incapable of seeing that others might return that and care for him as well.

Softly now he said. "You're wrong Tony. I want to know! I care."

Tony's gaze shot up to him in awe. He was completely taken by surprise and downright shocked to hear such words. Gibbs had sounded gentle and caring, openly showing affection. It was a tone Tony had only heard him use with Abby before, or when children were involved in their cases.

Tony's face displayed a struggle of emotions. All the self-doubt, the guilt, self-hatred, fear and the insecurity were visible for a moment. It seemed like he desperately wanted to believe that he was wanted and cared for, but in the end couldn't allow himself to do so, it would make him too vulnerable.

That moment passed and Tony gained control again. Slipping on one of his masks a wide smile appeared on his face. "Aww, Boss, you care! That's so sweet." He said, making it sound like a joke.

He hopped off the table and made his way around Gibbs and Ducky and headed for the door. "Listen guys, it was nothing, I'm fine. You just proved it yourself, Ducky. No need to go all mother-hen on me."

"Tony!" Gibbs now barked again to stop him from leaving, "DiNozzo! You're not solving problems by ignoring them."

The young man stopped, but didn't turn again to face them: "Very well spoken, boss, you had fortune cookies yesterday?" Without giving them the chance of another word he stepped out and took the stairs to get back to the bullpen.

_Stupid, stubborn! _Gibbs cursed once again. He looked at Ducky, seeking advice on how to proceed now from his friend.

"Oh dear! I think he acts out like this because he has no idea of how he is supposed to react adequately."

"He's acting like a jerk." Gibbs growled lowly.

"That he is." Ducky turned and busied himself by putting away his instruments. After a while he continued in his best narrative tone, like stating one of his stories. "I read a paper a while ago on the insufficiencies in relationships towards important others and attachment figures in children who suffered severe neglect and abuse. It was written by a colleague in France. I met him once at a conference in London. A charming fellow, who had traveled quite a lot to. I remember sharing some memories about India with him. He is an excellent listener, well something that surely comes in handy for a psychologist. He…"

"Duck!" Jethro cut the older man off.

Ducky turned again to face him and looked him over intently. Gibbs felt like he was being searched for his motivation and capabilities. Concern was written deeply in the ME's features.

"He needs help, Jethro!"

"I know, Duck, I know! But where should I start? I can't even make him listen to me right now." Gibbs voice was harsh with frustration.

"For a start, where is he going to sleep tonight?"

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**Author's Note:** Please review!


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

So he actually was running away after all. _You're not solving your problems by ignoring them_; Tony repeated the sentence distorting it with a mean voice, imitating Gibbs. He felt anger rise that constricted his chest. He felt all ugly and dark inside. _What does he know about my problems?_

He had told him that he cared. _Why the hell would he say something like that?_ Tony had been shocked by that admission.

One some level he'd always hoped for someone to care, but truth be told, it had scared him to the bones to hear his gruff-ex-marine-second-b's-for-bastard-boss talk in this comforting, calm, reassuring tone. He had been _nice_ for god's sake!

_Must be pity. _

He did not want pity. He did not need pity. Things were difficult enough being a pathetic screw-up, without others shedding tears about it. It wasn't an honest sentiment anyway. Couldn't be.

Pity was only one step away from revulsion. You gave pity to people who would not be able to take your honest opinion, people so pathetic that you can't be so cruel to let them know it anymore.

So he had lost his boss' respect. Gibbs now felt the need to pamper him like a lost or wounded child.

He was angry at Gibbs for putting him in this place.

He also felt a small outrage at being called an idiot again, but considering the circumstances, he probably deserved it.

Mostly, he felt embarrassed. Gibbs had seen just how needy and weak he was; otherwise he would have never had to say this load of crap about caring and stuff.

He didn't need Gibbs or anyone picking up the pieces for him. He didn't need mothering; he definitely hadn't had mothering since he was ten and got along just fine all these years.

Well, that was a load of crap to. He had been sleeping in his car last night and you probably couldn't label that a 'getting along just fine'. His life hadn't been a walk in the park. Maybe, a little mothering would have been nice.

He wouldn't cast Leroy Jethro Gibbs for the part of the mother in this movie though. He had to let out a silent laugh, when he imagined Gibbs dressed in a dress, with lace and hood, like in an episode of Little House on the Prairie.

He'd reached the level of the bullpen, but hesitated to leave the stairway. He didn't really feel up to facing his fellow agents right now. He sat down on the stairs. This was not as comforting as the elevator, but it would have to do.

Maybe now he was actually more confused than embarrassed. The strangely nice Gibbs had scared him.

His experience told him that no one was to be trusted, especially not those who had power over you. He knew that one, nice and compassionate word was more often than not, equaled by a hundred bad ones coming afterwards or being spoken behind ones back out of the same mouth.

Up until now he had not seen Gibbs betray his own word though. He had told him that he would have his six and in the field he had lived up to that every time. Tony had come to rely on that.

Could it be that if Gibbs said he cared, he actually did? That he was not making way for some kind of joke? He wasn't very good at telling jokes anyway.

The stairs weren't very comfortable. His butt was getting cold, his back hurt from leaning into a sharp edge. He was tired though, he hadn't gotten very much sleep lately. So he shifted his back until he was leaning against the banister. His legs stretched out across one step. He rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes with a weary sigh.

He must have been fallen asleep, at least he had managed to be startled awake by a nightmare and not a team member. Now, _that_ would be embarrassing. _No rest for the little, stupid ones. _

With an effort he got back to his feet. He could only hope that nobody had used the stairs and seen him during his little nap.

For a bunch of field agents they sure were choosing the comfort of the elevator a lot over the exercising effect the stairs held.

He had not thought it possible, but he had found a place to sleep even worse than his car. Tonight he might just go for it and look for a nice bridge.

It had passed a little over half an hour since he had run away from autopsy. He could probably pull off pretending he just made a stop at the head.

_You could try sleeping in a toilet cabin, they're reasonably clean. _

He took a deep breath, to lose the sleepiness, to shoo away the pictures of his nightmare still vivid in his head, and to steel him for the coming. Then he stepped through the door into the bullpen. Gibbs had returned to his desk and was typing, probably his report. Kate and McGee were doing the same.

He lowered his gaze to the floor and made his way to his own desk. He was hoping that if he wasn't looking at them, they would refrain from looking at him to. _Yeah right, like that's the way things worked._

He sat down. Giving a hostile glare to his co-workers, that was aimed to prevent all questions, and continued his own work.

The hours passed and he was working with full concentration. He didn't say a word to anyone and no one talked to him.

He was sure Gibbs had stared at him a few times, but he didn't bother to look up and meet his eyes. He could do without the full power of the famous Gibbs glare.

He wondered if Gibbs had sat in front of a mirror to practice that. It was extremely effective, no matter what.

Finally, Gibbs gave the signal to leave.

"Go home. We did a good job today. Take your rest, you earned it!" Kate and McGee instantly packed their stuff and hurried out, relived to escape the tense atmosphere and end the exhausting workday full of reports and other paperwork.

Tony took his time, as he didn't have a place to go; he figured there was no need to hurry.

"DiNozzo!" it was a patented Gibbs bark, which left no room for defiance. It was the call used when he ordered him to follow, to pick up a lead, or to get coffee. It was a bark one had to obey. So Gibbs wasn't finished with him yet. That figured. He braced himself for the coming.

"You're with me."

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**Author's note:** I seriously love your reviews, so please keep on reviewing!


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12:**

To say Tony was tense, would be like stating that Antarctica was a little chilly or that Mt. Everest was only a little hill.

He followed Gibbs reluctantly, but seemed to be ready to run any second. The ride in the elevator down to the garage had been awkward but the drive in the car was a downright catastrophe.

Gibbs even noticed a sheen of cold sweat on Tony's forehead. If he didn't know better, he would have thought that the younger man was terrified.

But this was his Senior Field Agent. A federal agent, the same agent who called himself, _Very_ Special Agent DiNozzo. The man he had seen giving witty comments, while facing the barrel of a gun, pointed at him by a serial killer. A man he liked to call friend, which was, considering his history of scaring off agents and his impatience with probies, quite remarkable.

So why would he be afraid?

Gibbs had decided that the question of overnight stay wasn't worth another stuttered and nervous discussion and had just decided to take Tony home with him.

He was determined to ignore Tony's obvious incapacity to ask for help and just give it anyway.

Once they had arrived at his house, he got out of his car and headed for the door. He only realized that he wasn't followed by DiNozzo, who remained seated in the car, half way up the stairs.

"DiNozzo! Quit the nonsense and get your sorry ass out here!" He barked. Hiding in the car? This was getting ridiculous.

Tony got out of the car, but stopped, standing between the open car door and the car, somewhat shielded from Gibbs.

"Boss?" he asked wearily.

"What is it, DiNozzo?" He really wished he could understand what was causing his Senior Field Agent to behave so irrationally and strange since this had started. Normally, he was a fairly sensible man.

"Ummm… Where are we?"

Gibbs shot him a funny look. "Well, that's my house. What do you think?"

"Your! House!? This is where you live?" He stared, somewhat bewildered up at the two story family home, freshly painted and neatly maintained, with the nice garden, where he could make out a Hollywood swing standing.

"Your home?" Was that fear Gibbs could hear in the question of the younger man? Anyway, finally Tony dropped his gaze, in what seemed to be quiet defeat and followed him inside.

Once inside Gibbs went through the motions of getting home after a long workday; stowing away his gear, hanging up his jacket, switching on the lights in the living room and kitchen, turning on the radio, and making some coffee. When the coffee machine was filled and running, he turned and realized that DiNozzo had again stopped behind him.

He was standing in the doorway from the hall to the living room. His posture was stiff, his gaze lowered to his shoes. It seemed that he tried to be as small or inconspicuous a man his size and stature could be, he didn't even dare to look around.

"DiNozzo, what are you doing?" The gaze of the younger man stayed focused on the floor and he refused to answer.

Gibbs sighed silently, what was he going to do? He had no idea, what was going on in the head of the other. He was good at reading people and even though DiNozzo was a master in masking his feelings and thoughts and had his deflections developed to a form of art, Gibbs prided himself, that he saw behind the silly frat boy image he'd created and seemingly perfected around others. But tonight he was failing.

"DiNozzo," this time it was more a bark than before, "Ya waiting for something?"

Did he see a flinch there? What the hell?

Then Tony's gaze came up, meeting his eyes with a detached look. There was a shift in his position from tensed to overly leisure. A cocky smile started to shine on his face. His voice was smug now, seemingly aimed to provoke the older man.

It was a great act, but Gibbs saw it for what it was, nothing more than a well practiced, self-assured act.

"So boss, this is all really pottery barn homey, and I'm sure you chose to bring me here for means of privacy. But can we just get it over with?"

"Get what over with?"

"Well, you know, I was never one to put a dressing down on the long bank."

Gibbs just stared at him, trying to figure out what he was talking about in the first place, a shadow of doubt and insecurity crept over the younger man's face. He was easily leaning against the doorframe, his posture aimed to portray how relaxed he was. But he failed to cover up his real emotions fully.

"What?" Gibbs voice was soft once again, as the realization was dawning on him of what Tony was expecting from him.

With a played hurt expression, that betrayed the terror he felt, Tony said: "Oh, come on Gibbs, I can take it. I actually appreciate that you didn't do it in front of everyone back at the office. I screwed up and I probably deserve all your yelling and ass-kicking and it's only reasonable to fire me now."

He looked around himself, considering how far Gibbs would take it. He had searched the privacy of his home for this. Even though Gibbs had left the corps over ten years ago, he hadn't lost his strength or skills. Tony was in for a hell of a ride.

"Okay, bo… Gibbs! I can take the punishment!"

Gibbs' stomach turned upon realizing Tony thought he had taken him here to punish him. He was actually expecting a beating and thought he would be fired.

Gibbs was cultivating his reputation to be a hard-ass-ex-marine. He'd told them that the second b stood for bastard.

But he would never raise his hand against a coworker, a team member, a partner, a _friend_, for god's sake! A head slap or two when they got off track, but never with a malicious intent behind it. Never.

He was hurt that Tony would think he would do something like that.

What affected him most was that DiNozzo, expecting punishment, had followed him anyway, was ready to accept whatever he would do to him. That was a cause for deep concern.

Hot fury rose up in him, not directed against Tony, but against whoever had installed it into the young man to think that it was okay to punish him, that he was a screw up who deserved a beating.

Quietly he said. "Oh Tony."

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**Author's Note: **Hi everybody! I love your reviews, they enlighten my days! Please keep reviewing. There will be more! Soon (hopefully)!


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's note:** Big, furry, in neon colour sparkling thanks to XX-Samantha-XX who does an awesome job betaing this story and teaches me some english. Also, thanks to all the wonderful reviewers, it makes me feel really good to see that you read my story and considerit worth a comment or a thought! Please keep on reviewing!

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**Chapter 13:**

"Oh Tony." Gibbs took a step towards the younger agent. Seeing Tony bracing himself for the first blow was making Gibbs feel oddly helpless. Not a feeling he was accustomed to.

He took a step back again and raised his hands to his chest, showing Tony his bare palms. He tried to put it in his stature and gesture that there was no aggression to be feared from his side.

He desperately wanted to comfort his friend, to show him he was appreciated and cared for, but Tony made it so difficult to get the point across.

He longed to just pull the young man into a hug, a hug that would take all the demons away.

Abby had once told him that a proper hug could be like an emotional Heimlich. Someone puts their arms around you and they give you a squeeze and all of your fear and anxiety come shooting out of your mouth in a big wet wad and you can breathe again.

He had no idea where she got this kind of stuff; but he wished things would be that easy here.

Though, if the demons were as deep as he feared, then he knew Tony would need more than a simple hug to chase them away.

However, there was no way Tony would accept a hug from him now. The guy expected a beating. For the love of god, how could he think that?

Gibbs had tried to be there for Tony all day. He had seen the desperate need for attention and affection in his fried, but every time he tried to offer some care, Tony had pushed him away with a snotty remark; a disrespectful line or openly outrageous behavior, forcing him to back off again.

He had even told him directly that he cared and as a result it had sent him quite literally, running away. _That had been a great success!_

What would happen if he made the wrong move now? Would he push DiNozzo over the edge?

Gibbs was actually wondering if his tries were making things worse. Was DiNozzo better off alone?

Great, now he was doubting himself. Not a train of thought he was accustomed to either. So no!

Tony wasn't better off alone, definitely not.

Gibbs steadied himself.

Pig headed Tony was too stubborn to see that he meant something to Gibbs, that he could rely on him? Well, he would show him stubborn.

Now he crossed his arms in front of his chest, his eyes set firmly on his agent.

"I won't!"

"What?" Tony asked suspiciously.

"I just won't."

Now Tony was obviously puzzled by his words. His mask slipped again and left a deeply confused look on his face.

Gibbs turned away from him and went back into the kitchen to get his coffee. He hoped feverishly this would work.

He could nearly hear the thoughts running through the younger man's head, trying to make sense of the situation.

He hoped Tony would come to the right conclusion. He was only one step away from making huge cue cards.

Time passed. Gibbs leaned leisurely against the kitchen counter, anxious not to show that his attention was focused solely on the younger man. He took a large sip of his coffee, thankful for something he could at least busy his hands with.

Tony's question was careful, guarded. He seemed like someone testing the strength of the ice covering a pond in winter, who was fully convinced that the next step would land him in the freezing water, drowning.

"You're not going to punish me?"

"Nope!"

"You're not going to fire me?" There was a little bit of hope creeping into Tony's voice.

"Nope!"

Tony allowed himself to relax a little. The hope changed to disbelief, then again to pure confusion.

"So, why have you brought me here?"

Gibbs was exasperated at how impossible it was that Tony failed to see simple kindness and friendship, even if they were right under his nose. So he would spell it out, if it was what it needed.

"Guest room. Upstairs second door on the left."

Tony stared at him in pure astonishment. He blushed; even his ears were getting red.

"Uhh… boss. That's mighty nice, but … I'm fine, you don't have to!"

All right, Tony was obviously set out to make him rip himself in to parts like Rumpelstilzchen had done. He gave him another sharp look, daring him to keep on arguing.

"Not gonna happen, DiNozzo!"

"Boss?"

"Look! I insist! So the sensible thing for you would be to just accept it! You're stuck with me; better make the best of it." He said it with one of his stern glances, only allowing a small hint of a smile to appear on his lips.

So Tony couldn't handle nice, he would keep it sparse.

"Ya hungry? I'm going to make a chili. It wouldn't be very polite to refuse, I think." _Oh, he was a master in the bastard-game._

Like an oversized puppy, eager to please his master, Tony followed him into the kitchen, insisting in lending him a hand.

Going through the motions of cooking, only a little hindered by his overeager help, Gibbs had time to collect his thoughts.

He wondered, not for the first time, just what had scared Anthony DiNozzo so deeply. He had suspicions and he knew Ducky was with him on that page. But even his most thorough background check had not revealed anything of substance.

The complete absence of any medical records till the age of twelve was suspicious in itself. There should be the occasional check-up, maybe the common children's diseases, but there was nothing.

The first evidence of Tony being ever in medical care was an eleven week long stay in the hospital when he'd been twelve after a car accident.

Tony was the son of Anthony D. DiNozzo Senior, CEO of DiNozzo- Inc., a multimillion dollar business, known by the slogan "DiNozzo-Inc. 'cause we care". He had found annual photos of the family published by the corporation's PR. The last one featuring Tony was when he was aged twelve.

Gibbs did not believe in coincidences.

Tony had mentioned his father occasionally in the passing, covered by a joke. Gibbs was getting the impression it was a sensible topic.

_Well, first house them, then feed them, later you can tend their wounds._

Dinner went down fairly smooth, even though Tony was behaving like someone visiting his great-aunt. He didn't lean back in his chair, he didn't talk during the dinner, and he was all stiff and formal. He was probably trying to be inconspicuous again by showing off his best manners.

Gibbs patience was tested, when DiNozzo after insisting to wash the dishes had started to clean the stove. He was obviously trying to make himself useful, but going way overboard with it.

Gibbs was going to call him to order, when the phone rang. The caller ID showed that it was Abby, probably calling to check on them. Before retreating to the living room to take the call, he called out gruffly to Tony: "Freeze! I don't want you to polish my oven!"

"Gibbs!"

"Oh, hi my silver fox. How are you doing? Is Tony with you? Is he alright? You didn't yell at him again, did you? He is stressed; you have to be careful with him! He is okay, isn't he? I researched this gas, and it's quite nasty stuff – Ducky says it didn't do serious damage, but he isn't nauseous, is he? Did he eat? Did you…"

"Abs… Abs!" he stopped the stream of words coming from the Goth. "It's all right! He is fine!"

"Fine? Seriously? Fine? Are you kidding me?" _Okay, she had a point there._

"Oh, Abby, calm down. I'm on it, okay?"

"Okay! Can I do something?"

"Not right now."

"Good night, Gibbs. Love you!"

"Good night, Abby! Love you, too."

Coming back to the kitchen he saw that Tony had discovered the mop and was currently mopping the kitchen floor. "DiNozzo! I tell you not to polish my oven and you start with the floor?"

Tony stopped in his tracks and looked at his boss startled. He blushed again, seemingly feeling deeply awkward. Gibbs could actually watch Tony's defenses rise, could see him buildup the bulwark he used to hide behind and slip on his mask.

His tone was playful, but definitely aimed to provoke. "You know, boss? It has to be done once in a while. So why not by the freeloader?"

Anger was boiling up in Gibbs. But he realized that Tony was baiting him again. He was trying to repel him, as he thought he wasn't worth his effort in the first place. Well, that would not work with him.

He reigned down his anger and waited for DiNozzo to finish.

"I've got some DVDs in the living room. You like to watch one?" That was one of his better ideas, he thought. The young man was a film buff after all, maybe that would get him to relax finally.

Tony was honestly surprised. "You've got a DVD player?"

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**A/N:** Abby got the thing about hugs from the tv show **pushing daisies**, which is full of wonderful quotes like this one!


	14. Chapter 14

**Warning: There's a slash-try in this! **I don't write slash and in this story both Tony and Gibbs are completely straight. But also in this story Tony is extremely pig headed and confused and it is really early on in their father/son-relationship. So beware there is a slash- move in this!

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**Chapter 14:**

"You actually _do_ have a DVD-player!" He was standing in front of the TV-set in deep awe.

Tony would have bet his own DVD collection that his boss didn't even own a TV. Let alone an up to date entertainment system.

So the grumpy technophobe, who wrecked one cell phone a week, wanted to watch a DVD, with him of all people. The world was going all crazy.

Gibbs obviously wasn't a cineaste, though. He had proved to be completely ignorant to Tony's numerous movie references on various occasions.

"Why _do _you have a DVD- player?"

"Only thing the last ex-wife left, when moving out. She probably thought it would be funny. There are some movies too; in the drawer." Gibbs sat down on the couch, taking a sip from his beer and placing a bottle for Tony on the table.

Tony searched the drawer, curious about Gibbs' choice of movies, or at least the choice of movies of the woman that Gibbs had chosen to marry.

"These are a bunch of chick flicks!? Oh, and the Indiana Jones –Collection, Sabrina, Working-girl, Regarding Henry, The Fugitive, Six Days Seven Nights. That's all Harrison Ford?"

"She had a thing for him."

_Okay!_, Tony thought, _she obviously liked a certain type of man_.

"Is any of those good? One you'd like to watch?"

"You don't know these?"

"No."

"Why? Uhhh …. You have no idea how to use the player, do you?" Tony assumed, really amused now. Gibbs didn't handle high-tech very well.

"Nope!"

"Here – The Fugitive, you might like it!"

"Fine with me."

Tony started the film and settled next to Gibbs at the other end of the couch, taking his beer.

Finally he would have some time to gather his thoughts. He wondered once again what had gotten into his boss. _Return of the brain eaters!_

He had expected Gibbs to punish him, but he hadn't. Thankfully, Gibbs had not been so strangely _nice_, like earlier in the day, either. Still, why would he let him stay at _his_ house of all places?

Could all of this be only a trick? Was all of this a scheme to lure him into believing he was safe and … _wanted!_? Aimed to make the punishment that was to come, hit him harder?

That would be the kind of mind game he was all too familiar with.

Tony was starting to fidget, suddenly aware that he was sitting directly next to his boss. Why hadn't he kept more distance? Why had he chosen to sit on the couch? There was an armchair; he could have sat there, being out of reach from any sudden blow in his direction.

Unfortunately, now it was impossible to change and sit somewhere else. That would be all awkward and put all the attention on him again. Gibbs surely would see right away just how nervous he was. He couldn't afford to show that kind of weakness to anyone.

He tensed, concentrating hard to stop his fidgeting.

Gibbs normally didn't show much patience regarding his urge for constant motion anyway. He had been on the receiving end of a lot of head slaps, aimed to stop him from fidgeting since he had begun working at NCIS. Probably, justified head slaps, it could be kind of annoying to have someone around who couldn't sit still.

Gibbs had always told him when he was getting annoyed, or at least had shown it with a very demonstrative gesture. He usually handled things directly, pretty much _attacking_ them face on.

He wasn't one to beat around the bushes or play mind games either, was he?

He_ did _tell him that he wasn't going to punish him. Could he believe that? Gibbs had never deceived him yet. Could he trust him?

If he couldn't trust Gibbs, of all people…

So, if Gibbs wasn't going to turn on him, if he hadn't taken him here to punish him, why would he take him in over night?

He had offered his guest-room, he had cooked dinner and he was even watching a movie. Tony had played along with all of it, even though feeling extremely awkward in doing so. Gibbs made sure not to leave room for protest anyway.

Gibbs was a marine; even though resigned from duty about a decade now it was still in him, there was nothing like an ex-marine. You could take the man out of the corps, but you couldn't take the corps out of the man. He was still committed to their doctrine.

_Semper Fi. Always faithful._

So maybe he felt obliged.

Tony didn't want to be a burden, or make Gibbs feel obligated to take him in.

He had tried to be as less of a bother as he could be. He had tried to at least not cause any extra-work for his host. He had tried to help, to be useful. He should have known that that venture was doomed to go titanic. He was a screw up after all.

And Gibbs, well, _he_ had not seemed been amused by his futile attempts of help either.

Hospitality was a thing that wore out extremely fast. He needed to find way to show his appreciation.

He turned his head away from the screen to study his boss. He seemed at ease, like enjoying the movie. Well, it _was_ a good one!

In that moment Gibbs was taking the last sip of his beer. That's a chance. Tony jumped up, snatching the empty bottle. "I'll get you a new one."

For a moment images from his childhood rose before his eyes. He remembered vividly, painfully maybe, how he used to serve drinks for his father. But a beer wasn't the same as a sumptuous Glenmorangie Single Malt Scotch Whiskey, especially imported for his father from Scotland. With a smile he shook off the haunting memories.

Still, fetching a beer wouldn't be enough to repay Gibbs' kindness. He had to repay.

He handed him the new bottle and sat next to him again.

"Boss, the food and the room… You've got expenses. I'll pay you for it."

Gibbs shot him a funny look. Tony got the impression that he'd censored his response, holding back the answer that first sprung to his mind.

His patience was playfully short edged, when he asked. "You've got that kind of money?"

Well, Gibbs was on to something with that question. Tony was pretty tight right now; with the rent for his apartment, the gas for the car, food, the designer clothes he bought for work and the money he sent back to Peoria to support the widow of his ex-partner and her children, there wasn't much left. He couldn't afford a hotel and he couldn't actually afford to pay Gibbs.

His boss read the silence right. "You are not going to give me money! Now, watch the damn movie!" End of discussion.

Tony settled back down, staring at the TV screen and did like he was told to. His thoughts were racing, though. Why wouldn't Gibbs let him pay? What was he expecting from him? All this kindness demanded repayment. But what did Gibbs want? What did he need?

Realization hit Tony like a bulldozer.

His first impulse to his new found realization was to doubt his own sanity. Gibbs couldn't be! He wasn't the type. But after all you didn't know what happened behind peoples doors! Don't ask, don't tell.

He scolded himself for being so blind before.

What else could be his motivation to watch a movie with him? He didn't especially care for this kind of entertainment usually. But it had led them to sitting next to each other on the couch. It was plainly obvious, once you dared to look.

He couldn't believe that he had misjudged his boss so completely. His claim to being able to read the formidable Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs had been nothing but a delusion.

Tony had never done anything like this before. He was strictly, well, a ladies' man.

Anyway, he owed Gibbs. There was no way around this. He had to repay him.

His stomach turned, but he kept control.

Out of the corners of his eyes, careful not to turn his head and give away that he was looking at him, he eyed his boss. Gibbs was leaning back, relaxed into the cushions.

He was waiting for him to finally make a move; probably already annoyed that he, Tony, was so oblivious until now.

Tony swallowed hard, fighting the urge to run away.

_Don't be silly, you owe him, you can do this! You've been through worse, he is one of the good guys, he is your damn role model, if he wants this you can pull your shit together and get this over with!_

But how? He was pretty good at getting it on with the girls. In college he had know some guys, who were into that, it seemed not too different. Only, there was a huge difference after all!

_No way around it, just get it over with_.

"Tony?" Tony jumped as he was startled out of his troubled thoughts; obviously Gibbs had noticed him getting worked up over something. _He'll lose his patience soon. Great! Okay, just do it._

"I'm fine!" Tony gave him a wide smile.

He _did_ know how to seduce, he had been seduced himself; he also was a decent piano player, he would just transpose.

He shifted, under the pretence to find a position more comfortable, to get closer to Gibbs. He could nearly feel his thigh now touching the one of the older man. He was in pretty good shape, by common standards he was an attractive man. Strong!

A small spark of doubt took hold of Tony, what if he was mistaken again? _No turning back now!_

In a smooth motion he placed one of his hands gently on Gibbs' neck, the other on his thigh. He felt warm and firm under his touch. The odor of soap and saw dust, that had started to surround his boss a few weeks ago, encased him, as he was bringing his face close to the other's.

For a moment everything stood still.

Then Gibbs grabbed the wrist of the hand lying on his thigh in a steal-like grip and turned a fiery glare at him.

For one horrible moment Tony thought that he was in for a rough ride.

But Gibbs pushed him away, still keeping the strong hold on his wrist.

"DiNozzo? What the hell?"

Tony's heart sank. He lowered his gaze, avoiding looking at Gibbs.

Looking down he missed the twirl of emotions visible on Gibbs face.

There was a very long pause, until the older man finally found enough control to ask in a quiet voice "You aren't gay, Tony, are you?"

"No, I'm sorry, I'm not."

Gibbs let go of him, searching him closely to find a clue to what had just happened. "So why for Christ's sake did you try to hit on me?" he asked obviously still at loss for a reasonable explanation for the behavior of his Field Agent.

Tony's eyes shot up at Gibbs, suddenly realizing just how completely he had screwed up this time. He had gotten it wrong. _Oh no!_

He tried to back paddle immediately. He freed himself from Gibbs' grip and scooted away from him, back to the far end of the couch again, not daring to actually stand up, partly not sure if Gibbs would jump at him, partly not trusting his legs to support him and flee.

Gibbs must have read it in his eyes and suddenly he began to realized what the motivation of this pull on him of Tony had been.

And upon this realization he exploded.

He jumped to his feet with a deep guttural roar. Not trusting himself, he distanced himself with two big steps from Tony. He turned to the next wall and slammed his open palms against it. He remained in this position leaning against the wall, trying to control his anger.

After a while, shocked by the harsh reaction, Tony said in a small voice. "I'm sorry!"

Gibbs turned to him again, motioning to him with his palm open in a half defending half accusing gesture: "Don't… Don't! Apologize!"

He took a couple of deep breathes. "You thought I wanted sex from you for letting you stay here?!"

Tony cringed under the blunt statement. It sounded horrible that way. He wearily rose from the couch to.

"I'm out of here. Sor…"

"Stop, Tony!" Gibbs called out.

Tony froze and when he finally turned to face his boss again, he once again saw that same expression he had seen in autopsy this afternoon. _Concern?_

"Tony, how can you think that?" The question wasn't accusing, but yet again patient and that was unsettling Tony the most.

Gibbs was asking for an explanation instead of demanding it. It seemed like he longed to understand some deeper truth. Tony just couldn't understand why he would look at him to find that.

He chose lopsided-smile number 12 and gave his answer a coloring of jocularity. "I don't know." He just didn't have the means to handle this situation differently. "I owe you, I guess."

Gibbs shook his head in quiet desperation.

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**Author's note:** Please review!


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's note:** Wow! Thank you for all of your awesome reviews. Here's more. Have fun! Keep reviewing, please!

* * *

**Chapter 15:**

It sounded like a joke.

"I owe you, I guess."

But Gibbs did not feel like laughing at all.

Not when a friend had, out of a twisted sense of obligation, just submitted himself to having sex with him. Even though Tony wasn't into men, he would have endured this, thinking he demanded it as repayment.

Gibbs was lost for words.

Tony had shown the tendency to be overeager in following him, but even in the field it had never been following blindly. Tony had chosen him to be his mentor, but that had not stopped him from standing up to him, when he thought Gibbs was crossing the line, getting too involved, or was set on the wrong lead.

Apparently, concerning personal relations, Tony wasn't as self-secure.

That could be a problem.

Gibbs needed Tony and he couldn't lose him over this kind of nonsense. He needed Tony to accept that he, Gibbs, cared.

He suddenly wished he would have read that paper Ducky had been talking about earlier.

Last week, Tom Morrow had playfully referred to Tony as Gibbs' bloodhound. Sadly enough Gibbs at times, thought Tony rather reminded him of a kicked puppy. Of all the damn things.

He didn't want that, he wanted, no, needed Tony to be Tony. The team needed him as well.

He had to steer the boat out of the shallow waters now, before they hit the cliffs and the boat shattered on the waves of emotion both men weren't used to.

Upon realizing Tony's motivation to hit on him, hot fury took hold of him, not directed against Tony, but against the impossible situation and against who ever had scarred the young man so deeply.

His sudden outburst of anger against the wall had caused Tony to violently flinch away; reminding Gibbs that only two hours before he had expected a beating out of his hands.

He cursed himself for losing his control like that. He had to be careful, or he might be sending the young man running, maybe even from his job at NCIS.

He couldn't have that.

He dropped his hands and his head.

An awkward silence had risen between them. Tony was still crouched down on the couch, staring intently at his hands.

_Okay, keep it simple and clear._ Surely, Tony's try at handling the situation with humor had been quite pathetic, but it may be the only way he understood.

Gibbs twitched his lips with the half-smile he usually acknowledged, when one of Tony's pranks or jokes was just too hilarious to be ignored.

In a playful mock-tone he said. "DiNozzo, I'd rather not do you, you think you'll get along without my magic touch?"

Tony's head shot up. He searched his boss for malice, but just found him teasing lightheartedly.

He was joking, offering him an easy way out of this horrible situation. Tony was more than thankful for the opportunity.

His face lit up in a huge smile: "I'll survive, I guess. Wouldn't want you to spend all you love-energy on me anyway, you can't risk the mysterious red head getting cross with you."

Gibbs had to laugh at that, he had to give Tony credit for his guts to tease him with his "mysterious" date, which Tony had been trying to find out about for a while now, ever since she first had picked him up from the Navy Yard.

He dropped back on the couch next to Tony again. In a swift motion he head-slapped the other, demonstrating that things wouldn't change after all of this.

Tony rubbed the back of his head, still looking at him with a lopsided, slightly disbelieving smile. He was obviously surprised that they had gotten through this embarrassing situation and that he _lived _to never ever mention it again to anyone.

Gibbs had let it slide and he wasn't stupid enough to question his luck on this one.

"DiNozzo, you set out to make me miss the end of the movie? Because I actually want to know how it ends, and I'd rather not be forced to find out how to rewind that DVD."

"You want to _rewind_ the DVD?"

"DiNozzo!"

"Shutting up now, boss."

They settled back to watching Tommy Lee Jones hunting down Harrison Ford on the screen. The atmosphere had relaxed again.

Gibbs was satisfied with the response he got to the head-slap; the younger man seemed to accept it as a sign of affection. _Kicked puppy, indeed_. Again his gut cringed with the question 'what had caused such damage?' Tony was a good man, and Gibbs was determined to help, he might not be able to undo or fix, but he could help rebuilding. He was completely sure, it was worth the effort.

He would have preferred to know exactly what he was dealing with, though. Not knowing, kept him from actually understanding Tony. He was left feeling helpless more often now than he cared for.

He was a skilled interrogator after all; he was able to get any information from anyone. He could start to prod a little. But should he do so? No, building trust was the way to handle this.

It would take longer, but being a marine-sniper had taught him the value of patience. It was the hours of preparation, hiding and waiting, even the sheer endless moment you held your breath before firing the bullet that made it a good shot, not the short actual act of pulling the trigger. He was in this for the long-haul.

When the movie was finished, Gibbs helped Tony to set up the bed in the guest room, he gave him a fresh towel and some clothes he could wear at night and showed him to the second bathroom.

Then he got ready for bed himself. Before turning in, he once again went to look for his guest. Tony had showered and changed into Gibbs spare sweat pants and an old NIS T-shirt. He was sitting on the side of the bed.

"You all set, DiNozzo?"

Tony answered him with a smile. "I'm fine, boss. Thanks!"

The last few days had taught him one or two lessons about his agent and hearing him say 'I'm fine' was causing him to be suspicious rather than to reassure him.

He took in the appearance of his friend. He seemed somewhat tense again. He sighed inwardly.

"Good night, boss!"

Gibbs _could_ have voiced another reassuring word, _could_ have told him again that he cared, but Tony did not give him the chance for an approach on the matter.

"Good night, DiNozzo."

Two hours later Gibbs woke. It wasn't a noise that had startled him, not even a feeling of unease his gut was telling him about. He just felt the urge to stand up and have a look at the well-being of his guest.

Padding barefoot down the dark hall, feeling the wooden floor beneath his feet, suddenly reminded him of the countless nights he had got up to check on Kelly. The thought made his heart ache.

Silently, trying hard not to make a noise, he pushed open the door of the guest room. He peered into the dark room, trying to make out the still figure of his agent in the bed.

He nearly jumped out of his skin, when he suddenly found himself looking directly in the wide open eyes of said Field Agent. "What the hell?" he hissed exasperated.

Blindly he felt around for the light switch.

When the light lit up the room, he found DiNozzo sitting in front of him on the corner of the bed, staring up at him.

Still sitting in the same position he had left him a couple of hours before.

"Boss!" he said with a raspy voice.

"What the hell?"


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16:**

They had made it through the rest of the film with what Tony, these days, could happily accept as at ease.

There had, amazingly, been no major catastrophes after offering his boss to be his fucktoy. In fact, he had laughed it off and he was determined to never mention it again and would try hard to not to even think about it.

If he did, he might just finally swirl downwards and find a watery grave in the overpowering sea of embarrassment and humiliation.

Gibbs apparently had let it slide and Tony could do that as well. He was a master in letting things slide after all.

He wore a strong armor and most things that were thrown his way would just bounce off without affecting him. The things that made it through he could usually push away. If that failed he would just take what was affecting him and put it on that huge pile of shit he was carrying around anyway. Dealing with it every day was so incredibly hard anyway that it didn't make a difference if there was one thing more or less he was suffering from.

The catastrophes he brought upon himself due to his enormous stupidity were usually the ones rather hard to handle though.

He couldn't change it, he couldn't change who he was and he had no power to change what happened to him, so he had to endure.

Even though he tried hard to keep up the illusion, he knew that having control, was exactly that, an illusion.

This whole mess had been incredibly humiliating, starting at the moment Gibbs had found him sleeping in his car, or maybe, the morning he came all fucked up and hung over to work, and he had taken it to a really grandiose culmination point, that was for sure.

He was totally puzzled as to why Gibbs was still putting up with him. It had come close, but Gibbs had chosen to hit the wall instead of him. Even though he didn't know why Gibbs bothered, he was thankful for the amount of self-constrain he obviously had. He had expected the ass-kicking hours ago.

Tony would be damned before he took down his guard and defenses though, that would be just stupid, and painful. One of the truths he had learned early on in his life. Well, he should have learned that one early on, but it had taken _a lot_ of lessons, hadn't it?

Gibbs for once had let him off the hook, had laughed and had laid back to watch a movie. _Strange, unpredictable, unknown territory. _

He had reverted to just going along for the ride. He would stay over at Gibbs' house for the night.

The day finally was coming to an end. It had stretched to what felt to be a thousand years or at least a hundred really horrible ones.

It would be awesome to get a break, to find some oblivion in sleep. They said that sleeping on it over night helped to sort things out; everything would look bright and shiny in the morning again.

_Yeah, right!_ That wasn't how things worked for him. He wouldn't find oblivion in his sleep. _Oh, shit!_ He couldn't _sleep_ here. Things would look _different_ in the morning, if he did, but definitely not bright and shiny!

The movie had ended and Gibbs had set the room for Tony, kindly allowing the young man to make himself at least a little useful.

It was a nice room. The furniture simple and practical, but of good and solid quality. It was the down-to-earth style that his boss stood for. A lot of wood and dark, warm colors. It made for a really comfortable atmosphere. _Homey_.

Tony had never managed to make his own apartment to feel homey. He possessed some pieces of furniture he loved, like his king-size bed with the precious satin sheets, which left this cool, smooth, soothing sensation on his skin. His TV, for sure, was dominating his living room. He wouldn't do without his DVD collection, his music and his books.

He had chosen light colors, giving everything a slightly sterile look. Everything was chosen to fit together and his apartment was always tidy and clean, bordering on empty.

That _"pottery barn hominess"_ of Gibbs home, he'd joked about earlier, felt good. It wasn't everything fitting together, the interior wasn't planed by a designer, and not everything was set in order. This house had been lived in. It made it exactly that, a home!

Tony couldn't allow himself to be lured in though; he couldn't allow himself to relax. _Not here_. Not where he didn't belong.

He went to the bathroom pretending for Gibbs to get ready for the night.

He took a shower, a cold one, to keep him alert.

He changed into the clothes the older man had laid out for him. A little short, a little tight, but they would do. He had been running a little short on his wardrobe due to the fact that he couldn't get into his apartment.

Back in the guest room he sat down on the edge of the bed. His boss actually came to check on him._ Wouldn't be surprised if the aliens made him tuck me in!_

Once again today Tony could see a rarely seen expression on the face of the older man. _Concern!_

He couldn't take another round today. He wouldn't make it. He had to concentrate to make it through the night.

"Goodnight, boss!"

Gibbs looked disappointed at the missed chance, but luckily refrained from pressing on.

"Goodnight, Tony."

He heard Gibbs get to his own room and settle to sleep himself. He'd switched off the lights in the whole house.

Tony got up and switched the lights in his room off to. _Too obvious_.

Then he sat back on the corner of his bed and waited for the morning to come.

He could not _risk_ sleeping. Not here. Not with the ex-marine so close by. His boss, who had the exceptionally good hearing of …, well something that had exceptionally good hearing.

He'd managed to be startled awake by a nightmare, just dosing off sitting in the stairway a couple of hours ago. He couldn't, no, wouldn't risk waking up screaming and crying in the guest room of his boss' house.

He cursed his damn inability to control his reactions upon waking from his dreams. He should be able to stay silent, but there always had been occasions when he had just not been able to stifle his screams. It had gotten him in serious trouble before, but he had never been able to learn that lesson.

When working undercover, pretending the whole day to be someone else, it usually got easier. Still he made sure, when constructing the persona, to have a plausible explanation for nightmares. Just as important as the rest of the cover story.

The day, well, actually the whole week, had been emotionally draining and he knew tonight he wouldn't be safe from his demons; they would turn on him, if he closed his eyes and let them out.

He had shared the same hotel room with his boss on two occasions since working for NCIS. They'd been on a case and there simply hadn't been a second free room available.

The first time he had waited till Gibbs had fallen asleep and then hid in the bathroom, where he had the privacy to keep himself awake. Trying to stay up reading all night had not gone down well before.

Second time Gibbs had been up to him, he was suspicious. Bailing to the bathroom this time was out of option. Gibbs had refused to fall asleep before his agent did.

So Tony had lain still on the bed the whole night counting his breaths: In, 2, 3, 4, Out, 2, 3, 4, In, 2, 3, 4, Out, 2, 3, 4,

It was wearing to stay awake that way, exhausting. But he had done it before, when he was a child an didn't want his mother to know he was awake (at least his father had never bothered if he slept or not), or on the rare occasion he got close enough to a girl to actually be supposed to sleep next to her (they usually freaked about manically screaming people in their bed; wetting the bed in the course of an especially bad nightmare did not go down too well either). He had gotten through that night.

And he would get through this night as well. He didn't need that much sleep in the first place.

His thoughts drifted to the Mansons, his next door neighbors. Former next door neighbors. They had died in their sleep.

A bitter lump formed in his chest. Upon finding them he had desperately tried to wake them, to reanimate them. He had carried both of them outside. Had again tried to revive them while waiting for the ambulance. He had failed.

They'd been good people. They didn't deserve to die. They had family, like a _real_ family! Children and grandchildren, which visited on a regular basis and they got along well with.

Hearing their commotion through the thin walls, when there was family visiting, had always reminded him of that TV show 'The Waltons', _Goodnight John-Boy! Goodnight, Mom Goodnight, Dad!_

At least they had been together when they died. Bittersweet. Like the old couple in Titanic, who got into bed together, holding each other, before drowning.

His frame of reference – movies and TV shows.

He let his mind drift freely from one movie to the next, to a book he had read or a piece of music he could recall in his head. He had a thing for melodramatic Russian ballets.

His thoughts came inadvertently back to the happenings of the last hours and days. He pondered about it, he tore lumps out of himself for it. At least it kept him awake.

If his eyelid fell and he was losing the battle with Morpheus he pinched or punched himself to focus his attention again. He'd get some bruises from this. But he couldn't see any other choice in the matter.

He was deeply caught up in his troubled thoughts, when he suddenly heard footsteps in the hall. He managed to stifle his hitching breaths. _Maybe he just went to the head?_

No he stopped at the door of the guest room and opened it carefully. _Why was he checking on him?_ Tony, whose eyes were adapted to the darkness, could see his boss peer into the room silently. He seemed to search for him. It was pitch-black; he probably couldn't see him yet.

He got very close. His face maybe only fifty centimetres from Tony. He probably expected him to be lying in the bed, sleeping soundly.

And suddenly his eyes cut through the dark, he saw directly into Tony's eyes and he literally jumped to the ceiling, startled.

"What the hell?" Gibbs hissed exasperated and searched to switch the light on. When he could finally see him, he eyed Tony up and down closely, once again bewildered about what was wrong with his friend.

"Boss!" Tony found his voice, desperately wishing him go away again. _Just go back to sleep and forget about me, please._

Gibbs would definitely not go.

"What the hell?"

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**Author's note:** That's Tony's POV on the matter. Please review!


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17:**

"What the hell? "

Gibbs saw DiNozzo sitting on the side of the bed, in the same position he had left him hours ago. Big green eyes were silently pleading with him.

For what? To be left alone? To be ignored? Why would he want that?

Maybe, it wasn't as much wanting to be ignored, but keeping to things he was familiar with. Well, it was time he learned.

"You're not sleeping!"

Tony dropped his eyes to the floor, avoiding the scrutiny of Gibbs' gaze. There was no point in trying to deny what was obvious to the senior agent.

When Tony looked up again there wasn't any more pleading in his eyes. Actually they were pretty much devoid of any emotion. The smile that had appeared on his face, did not reach them by far.

"Oh boss, you know what a spoiled brat I am, I need a king size bed, and pricey satin sheets. It's like in the princess and the pea."

Gibbs felt a cold shudder run down his spine. It_ was_ concerning how easy Tony hid behind his acts. He was giving him; yet again, a load of bullshit. After all, he_ had_ seen the young man sleep in his car yesterday.

It definitely was not the missing comfort that kept his agent awake. But what was it?

He had seen him sleep in the office before, when they'd been working a case 24/7. Laid back in some impossible position on his chair, getting at least a few minutes of uneasy sleep.

He had also seen him staying awake by force, and seen him _fake_ sleep, so he, Gibbs, would stop pressing him to rest.

He was avoiding letting his guard down in front of others; by any, and all means.

He had seen him awaken to nightmares. Tony had never noticed him watching, even though he checked his surroundings with a haunted, guilty expression on his face.

The nightmares, he had assumed, were those of every law enforcement officer, those that came with the job. Maybe, it was more than that?

He avoided sleeping where he would be seen by others, or where he would be heard?

He was afraid, Gibbs realized, afraid to go to sleep and have someone else notice his nightmares.

"You don't feel safe enough to go to sleep here?" So after all, Gibbs _would_ prod a little.

Tony stood up, showing his palms, in a defensive gesture, up in front of his chest.

"No, no. Why should I? It's not like there are people sneaking into my room in the middle of the night watching or anything, is there?"

Gibbs gave him a dirty look. He had a point there, but Gibbs would be damned, if he got off track because of that now.

He saw Tony's strategy for defense. He was trying to annoy him so he would back off.

You'll never get a better opportunity from him. _Okay_, he decided, _just go directly for it_.

"Tony!" his tone was strictly no-nonsense. He demanded attention and made clear that he meant business now, with just calling his name. The question that followed was softer, but he kept it devoid of any judgment.

"Nightmares?"

Tony turned around and stepped away from him, suddenly extremely interested in a picture hanging on the opposite wall.

Gibbs knew he couldn't ignore his question, though. It took a while, but Gibbs force of will made him answer.

"Sometimes."

"The job?"

"Sometimes."

Finally, they were getting somewhere. Tony had admitted to something. The second 'sometimes' had told a whole story. It was uttered quietly; Tony had given up something he usually fought so hard to hide. He dropped his head again, in a gesture of quiet defeat, Gibbs had seen this way too often during those last days.

So it wasn't only gruesome crime scenes, or faces of victims that haunted his dreams. There were other demons after the younger man.

He had deep issues that he struggled with. He obviously saw it as a weakness, he had to cover them up, anyway he could. And now that he had been forced to admit to a weakness, he expected it to be used against him.

_Not gonna happen! _This was his chance to show the young man that opening up would not backfire at him.

"All right!" he said putting an end to the matter, "So! Princess on the pea, "He made a pause for emphasis.

Tony's head shot up and he looked shocked to be addressed in that way. But once again, instead of the expected malice he only found lighthearted mockery in the expression of his boss.

Gibbs gave him a grin playfully, as if he actually had expected him to let that previous line of him go without making at least a little fun of him.

"Let's go. I've got another beer for you and a boat to work on."

Tony was deeply confused, not sure he could trust his hearing any more.

"A boat?"

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**Author's note:** This is a short one, but more will come soon. I do have some time issues right now. Thank you all for the awesome reviews. Please, keep them coming! Constructive critique is greatly appreciated!


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18:**

Gibbs got his shoes, his favorite red sweater and tossed another one over to Tony, before he headed for the basement. After a short stop in the kitchen to get the beer, he turned around at the door and saw that Tony had stopped behind him, staring at him like at a mad man.

Tony had watched way too many movies to think that going into the basement would be a good idea. He had some personal experience on the matter to, even though dark basements only made a good third place behind attics in the summer and garden sheds in the winter, on the all time high score list of the worst places to be locked in, they still worried him all the same.

"Boss, you actually want to go down there?"

Gibbs gave him one of those looks. "Do you know a better place to build a boat?"

To that question Tony _really_ had _no_ answer. He was still trying to find out what exactly Gibbs meant by 'boat' and he was pretty sure, whatever it was, there must be loads of better places for it.

_Probably the brain eating aliens keep their starship, sorry, star 'boat' down there_, he muttered under his breath.

The older man didn't hear him and started down the stairs.

"Come on DiNozzo, your help may actually come in handy; a second pair of hands could be useful."

His boss sounded completely at ease, and even a little excited. There was something hinky going on.

Tony reluctantly followed him.

On seeing the basement, he stopped again in surprise. It was a well-equipped workshop chock-full with _a lot_ of wood.

"What? … _That_ is a load of lumber boss!"

"It's the boat."

Tony stepped down to stand next to him and took a look around. There were quite a few piles of rectangular blocks of wood, boards and maybe even planks.

A boat. _Yeah, right!_

"If you say so, boss."

The head slap snapped him out of his slightly disbelieving haze.

"Are you going to help, or not?"

"Wow, no!" Tony raised his arms in defense and took an involuntarily step back. "No way."

Gibbs gave him a confused look. "Why not?"

"You are actually serious about this?!"

"Yeah."

"Oh!" Tony eyed him for a moment and then the wood. He blushed. _No way!_ He had never built anything before. He would ruin everything before, well, before it even _was_ something. He took another step back.

"No, Gibbs. I can't. "

"And why's that?" Once again Gibbs asked, not judging, but just interested in the answer. Tony wished he would stop that already, it was getting creepy.

He gasped exasperated: "Ah, you know, its woodwork – I have no, no, idea about woodwork. I can't do this."

Gibbs gaze seemed to measure him up and he was seriously surprised when his boss gave him a small smile, he looked somewhat satisfied.

"So, Tony," he emphasized his use of the younger agent's first name, "it's about time you learn it, I think."

"No, I'll suck at this, really!" Tony pleaded for mercy.

"Oh, shut up about it already, DiNozzo! You are going to learn it. Trust me."

What sounded like a threat was in fact a promise.

Silently Tony cursed the damn stubbornness of his boss. He really could be a bastard.

Well, he would fail and disappoint him again. His thoughts were bitter, when he realized that he started to get used to it. Once again he had no choice. _Doomed._

"Look at this!" he nodded him over to the workbench to show him the plans. Tony only saw a hurly-burly of blue lines and numbers that held no meaning to him. Gibbs seemed quite excited about it though and so he forced himself to nod appreciatively for his pleasure.

"So what do you want me to do?" he asked resigned.

As the wood load had only been delivered a couple of days ago, it had to be sorted out. First, pieces had to be measured and cut.

Gibbs' instructions were short and to the point. Tony could work with that.

To his surprise, after all, he proved to be of some use. Some of the planks had to be lifted by two men and Gibbs showed him how to use the saw.

Cutting the wood, the waste parts falling off to the floor, seeing and feeling the neat cut face, left him unexpectedly satisfied.

They worked side by side and without noticing it, Tony was having a good time.

After about one and a half hours they settled down, after all, it was already past midnight. Gibbs sat on some sort of stand and Tony had pulled an old chair up next to the workbench. The beer was long gone, but the older man had dug out his secret-basement-stash of scotch.

It had been a long day and for the younger agent a very long week. Gibbs noticed how, after their late night physical work, Tony's eyelids became heavy. He definitely was looking almost dead on his feet.

He smiled as he told him: "See, you did a good job after all."

Tony smiled widely at the praise, his eyes sparkling with joy.

But the sparkle vanished quickly, his eyes darkened and he dropped his head in defeat again.

He had enjoyed the work with Gibbs and he was thrilled to hear a rare praise from his boss.

But he knew better than to give in to that kind of illusion. He knew better than to think he deserved any praise.

Gibbs noticed the change and it caused him deep concern once again. He stared at the amber liquid twirling in his glass, while contemplating how to reach his friend, how to prove him that he was appreciated and cared for. He needed to find a way to make him trust in his friendship so he could open up, so he would finally be able to understand and help him.

"Thank you for your help tonight, Tony." He told him quietly.

"Ah boss, that was nothing. It was probably more a bother, because you had to explain so much to me first." Tony waved it aside.

"No, you've been a great help."

"It's the least I can do."

Gibbs desperately tried to understand, how the young man could be so ready to offer his help, be so generous and selfless, and at the same time be so completely incapable to accept kindness himself. Maybe, not selfless, but self-forgetting would be a better way to describe it and the problem itself.

They sat in silence for a while.

"Tony?" Gibbs asked and wanted to know what the problem was and what he could do to fix it.

Tony did understand the question, but he wasn't able to have that conversation.

"I'm fine."

Gibbs could have told Tony again that he cared, that he wanted to know, because he wanted to help and that he could trust him. But, it would have probably sent the other man running again, or maybe it would finally reach him.

He could have told him that he valued him, because he was an excellent agent and good friend. Both things, which were rare in his life.

He could have told him about his family and how it hurt to have lost them and that he needed someone he could care for.

He could have said it. But he didn't.

Tony could have told Gibbs that he was insecure, ashamed and afraid.

He could have told him that his parents had mostly been absent and on the rare occasions they had been there they were drunken, disapproving and demeaning.

He could have told him that his father used to beat him to pulp and that his mother was giving him the wrong kind of attention.

He could have said it. But he didn't.

Gibbs kept staring into the depth of his drink and they continued sitting together in silence.

Tony had propped his feet on a stack of wood and his head was leaned back against the wall, while he was staring into the space before him.

Finally he fell asleep.

Gibbs got a blanket he kept in a closet under the stairs, and covered the sleeping agent with it.

He didn't leave him there alone, even though he probably should have. He bedded himself on a pile of wood, taking a second blanket for himself.

It was the first time he slept in the basement by the boat.

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**Author's note: **Thank you so so much for your reviews - they are very helpful and nice. Please review more!


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's note: **This is it - the next and last chapter of this story! It took me long enough and I undertsand if you are annoyed about the delay, I am annoyed about me as well. I hope you enjoy it now!

A giant **THANK YOU** to XX-Samantha-XX for being the wonderful beta, she was for this story!

* * *

**Chapter 19:**

When Gibbs awoke, the first sensation that registered with him was a dull pain in his back. For a moment he had no idea where he was and why his bed would be so hard. He had a headache, equally dull, and a hollow feeling in his stomach that told him about the beer and the scotch he had drunken the night before.

Upon opening his eyes, he wasn't that surprised to find himself in his basement, lying on a stack of wood.

His gaze fell on his Field Agent, who was sleeping in an impossible position on an old chair, his head resting against the workbench and his feet propped up on a pile of wood. He was nestled down in the blanket Gibbs had draped over him last night. He finally looked somewhat peaceful in his sleep as well.

It was Friday and they had to go to work today, so when he got to his feet Gibbs didn't bother keeping quiet. Tony just stirred silently and slept on.

He must have been exhausted; the last few)days had obviously been rough. He was pleased that he had finally conned the young man to relax and get some sleep. He wished that Tony would get a break, some peace and quiet. But, well, not right now!

"Tony, wake up, let's get ready for work. We've still some time for breakfast."

No reaction.

"DiNozzo!"

The Gibbs-bark got the expected effect. Tony jumped instantly to his feet, startled awake. He seemed disoriented as well, but when he saw his boss standing in front of him grinning; he settled down somewhat.

"Boss?"

"Apparently, we slept with the boat."

"Oh!"

Gibbs saw Tony recall the events of the previous night, but his features were guarded and he couldn't read him.

It was way too early in the morning though, and all Gibbs was capable of thinking about right now was his need for his morning coffee. _Need? Pah, craving!_ So without another word he headed up to the kitchen to set up the coffee machine, before going upstairs to get ready.

Coming back down he was satisfied to hear Tony use the shower in the second bathroom and he decided that a morning like this called for banana pancakes.

While preparing the breakfast his own thoughts involuntarily came back to the previous events and his agent. The harsh morning light wasn't the right setting for emotional exploring and dwellings though. He was fully aware that a night of sleep had not magically erased all problems. _What a pity!_

He just hoped that Tony would, in retrospect, accept his stay over at Gibbs' house as the simple act of hospitality from a friend, as it was meant to be. Maybe he would learn that he could trust him to have his back in _all_ situations.

Gibbs would have to talk to Ducky. He needed some advice on how to proceed from here. He could trust his older friend to provide some insights and directions. Ducky usually held some helpful insight and he had an experience or at least an opinion on pretty much every matter. When Gibbs was actually smart and patient enough to listen to him it nearly always turned out for the better.

He would ask Abby to keep going with the fuss over Tony for another day. He could take a little more of being cuddled. On second thought, there was probably no need to ask her to do so. He would help Tony, but he was not alone in his quest.

He was half way through his second cup of coffee. The caffeine was kicking in and making him muse about the blessing of everything Italian in his life. He quietly lifted his cup to his every-morning salute to Giovanni Gaggia and Saeco.

His cell phone rang. He answered with his usual shortness: "Gibbs." And while he listened he grabbed the thermos jug from the cupboard. They had a new case.

Putting the phone down, he turned to get his gear. "DiNozzo!" he yelled, "Get down here, we've got a case. Hurry up we need to get to Nor…" He stopped dead, mid-sentence, when he stepped in the hall to get his weapon out of the little safe there. There was DiNozzo, a hand already on the door, ready to sneak outside, bolting. Well, you could call that being caught red handed!

The young man was frozen in the motion and stared back at him with big eyes. He was deeply embarrassed anyway, about everything that had happened the last few days. That embarrassment was what made him try to leave without another word this morning in the first place. Being discovered now, sneaking out of the house, well, he was screwing up once again!

He dropped his hand from the doorknob and lowered his head, avoiding Gibbs' eyes. He didn't even try to explain.

Gibbs actually stared in silent disbelief. No, a night of sleep definitely had not magically erased all the problems.

"DiNozzo! Seriously! Seriously, it is way too early for this… We've got a case!" He would just have to settle for that, for now. "I made breakfast."

A sudden pang of guilt filled Tony. He trotted behind his Boss back into the kitchen. Upon seeing the breakfast his jaw dropped open in awe. Banana pancakes! Holy mother of…! Seeing Gibbs standing behind the kitchen counter, filling coffee in a second thermos jug for him and filling two plastic bags with the pancakes adding maple syrup for good measure, his mind cast his boss for another TV-mom, this time of the series 7thHeaven, he involuntarily shuddered.

"Let's go!"

Tony followed without a word. His thoughts were troubled. Guilt, embarrassment, shame. The full package.

The silence in the car was awkward, full of unspoken, unresolved feelings.

After a while Gibbs broke the silence.

"That didn't go so well, did it Tony?" He was referring to last night and the whole earlier mess.

"No, it didn't."Tony admitted subdued. "It's a good thing I can go back to my apartment tonight."

"Yes, I suppose it is a good thing."

Tony pondered for a while then, suddenly with a light tone, he said, "Some of it was fun though! You definitely have to watch Air Force One next. You're gonna love it."

Tony was bouncing back, letting things slide once again. He wasn't actually coping, but ignoring and enduring. As he did so he put on his 1000 watt smile, the one he wore while waiting for the pain to subside to a manageable level.

Gibbs recognized what Tony tried to do and was taken aback by the ease the young man could push things aside that came only with way too much practice.

"We'll work on it, you know?" He said calmly, but with a lot of conviction behind the simple words. He meant a lot more than merely the boat, but for now it would do as a substituted for the grater meaning.

"You've got your own spot in that basement now."

**The End**

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**Author's note:** Thank you for bearing with me through this story. Please **REVIEW** this chapter and the story as a whole, what did you like? what did you hate? what was confusing or not clear enough? what would you like to see elaborated on in another story. Please, I apppreciate and value your **feedback** highly.

I'm not done with this Tony and Gibbs yet. I am planning to write next a story about that mandatory physical exam that Ducky conducts on Tony (anyone volunteering to beat that would be awesome- I might need some help with the right use of the english medical terms - without drifting completly into medical babble).

Love, Lani


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